


It Takes A Village

by debwalsh



Series: Considerations [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Law & Order: SVU, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (talk of) forced breeding, Adoption, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, BAMF Bucky Barnes, Boys In Love, Cults, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Family History, Gen, Historical References, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Kid Fic, Legal Drama, M/M, Omega Bucky Barnes, Recovery, Social Justice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-02-19 11:27:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 77,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2386670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debwalsh/pseuds/debwalsh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2243451">Considerations</a> in which life-bonded Alpha/Omega pair Steve and Bucky look into adoption to finally start their own family, and find themselves battling a sinister organization with origins in their own time.</p><p>Note that the Law & Order SVU characters are supporting characters who appear in later chapters - I don't want anyone rushing to read this because of the SVU tie, and being disappointed. They just worked too well not to use them. :)</p><p>15Feb17 - Chapter 21, Respite Care - is posted!<br/>9feb17 - Chapter 20, I Know Where I've Been - is posted!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Will Find You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yellow_crayon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellow_crayon/gifts), [Voishen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voishen/gifts), [Febricant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Febricant/gifts), [biblionerd07](https://archiveofourown.org/users/biblionerd07/gifts), [neenya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neenya/gifts).



> The original story in this series, [Considerations](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2243451), just kind of came to me one evening. Just what kind of genetic issues might arise out of the tinkering by Erskine and Hydra? In an Alpha/Omega universe, could they risk conceiving a child together? "Considerations" is the conversation the boys have regarding their future as potential parents. I was encouraged to take it further ... and so the boys have spoken to Pepper about a reputable adoption agency, and now find themselves actually talking to someone about really becoming parents. On purpose.
> 
> This story is sort of inspired by a number of wonderful stories I've read (or am reading) here on AO3. In terms of Steve and Bucky as parents, I'm inspired by but I certainly can't pull off something as layered and complex as [Baby You Should Stick Around](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2236926) by Febricant and Neenya, or as endearing and heartwarming as [Shyest](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2256579) by biblionerd07. They are amazing stories of Steve and Bucky coping with sudden, unplanned parenthood, in both cases as a result of Hydra experimentation. Go, read them, shower the authors with lovely kudos and comments. FYI, in both stories, Steve and Bucky are "normal" super soldiers, not Alpha/Omega.
> 
> On the Alpha/Omega front, I'm inspired by the hysterically funny and delightful [The Winter Soldier Becomes a Parent: And The Personal Business of Other Super Persons](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2179554) by Voishen (aka Terrible Trollop), and the equally lovely and porny fluff of [The Sweetest Kind Of Poison](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2135010) by yellow_crayon. Again, get thee hither and read, kudo and comment!
> 
> You should also check out [Less Like a Horror Story, More Like a Living Hell](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2038992) by ConstantDaydreams. It's a dystopian view of Alpha/Omega dynamics with Bucky as the main protagonist. Really well done.
> 
> So this story will be a slice of life as the boys try to figure out how to be parents for the first time. Smut will likely ensue, at which point I'll up the rating. In fact, I can already hear Bucky asking Jarvis if there's a way to soundproof his and Steve's room, while still allowing the boys to hear if their adopted kids need them. 'Cos Bucky ain't giving up any of his hard-won sexual identity. He might have to amend what's considered an acceptable surface or location, but don't expect more than that from our boy. :)
> 
> Oh, and I have taken liberties regarding adoption, agencies, etc. This is, after all, an alternate universe. :)

Speaking to Pepper had led to speaking to Legal, who vetted a number of possible agencies, which led to Legal arranging a conversation with a plump, bespeckled older woman in a cramped, dingy Brooklyn office of Child Protective Services. 

Isabelle Elliott sat across from Steve Rogers and James Barnes in that office, and seemed genuinely confused as to why Captain America and his tame Omega would be interested in adopting through normal channels. “I would have thought you’d have your own, um, you know –“

“I’m not able to have children,” Bucky said sharply, clearly offended at her implication. “All that was done to me while I was a prisoner of war.” Steve chafed at Bucky’s lies, but he had to admit it was a creative response that stopped prying questions cold. And it wasn’t so far from the truth – Bucky was physically capable, but he and Steve had agreed that with all that was done to them both, risking a pregnancy from their combined DNA might cost their child more than anyone, least of all an infant, should have to pay.

“Oh. Oh, my dear, I am so sorry! No, I meant your own attorneys and channels for private adoption. Listen to me, you must think I’m horrible. It’s just that we don’t get many differentiated parents these days. I’ve been with the department 17 years, and you’re my first. The differentiated community here in New York tends to be pretty insular. On rare occasions, we’re called in to help place a child from a differentiated home if something happens to the parents, but I’ve never known a differentiated couple to come to us to adopt.”

“Why do you call us ‘differentiated’? Why not ‘bonded,’ or ‘alpha’ and ‘omega’? It’s what we are,” Bucky said flatly, leaning back in his chair and considering the middle-aged woman with suspicion.

She fingered her glasses and slid them back up her nose; they slid down immediately. “That’s right, you two have been out of circulation for a while.” She giggled softly at her own quip. “Well, you’ve heard the term ‘politically correct’?” The two men nodded hesitantly. “Well, back in the ‘80s, some people felt that ‘alpha/omega’ sounded too much like objectifying people like animals, and ‘bonded’ can mean other things. So some folks came up with ‘differentiated’ to classify people with extra … well, extra _qualities_ ,” she explained with a smile, pushing her glasses up her nose decisively.

“Huh,” Bucky grunted, and huffed back in his seat.

“Differentiated,” Steve repeated. “Well, we’re not used to the term. And ‘differentiated’ is less insulting, you think? Hmm. As you can imagine, a lot’s changed since we were first bonded,” Steve said with a smile.

“Back before the war, you mean? That’s a long-lasting bond. And your legal status –“

“We’re both life-bonded, and legally married in the state of New York,” Steve agreed smoothly, lifting his hand to show off the plain platinum band.

“That’s right, I remember the hoopla. Tony Stark really knows how to throw a wedding.”

“That’s one way to look at it. It nearly broke Brooklyn and Queens,” Bucky growled, earning him a tap on his knee from Steve.

“We can offer a very stable environment. We’ve been bonded for over 80 years, and married for two.”

She chuckled, her eyebrows shooting up to reveal her surprise at the longevity of their relationship. And the quick dart of her eyes betrayed her curiosity about their appearances, but she didn’t say anything overt. “Now, about your residence –“

“We’re currently living in Stark Tower, but that will change of course,” Steve supplied before she had a chance to elaborate.

“Oh?”

“We’ll relocate based on what’s best for the kids. Whether they want to stay in the city, one of the other boroughs –“

“Brooklyn. I ain’t movin’ to Queens,” Bucky grumbled. Isabelle smiled brightly at him for that display of regional loyalty.

“Yeah, but they might also prefer to move to a more suburban setting. Maybe even a farm. And of course, we’d take into account where they want to go to school before settling on a new home.” 

“Well, that’s a very generous attitude. We’d of course need to see your current domicile, and there would be follow-ups once the children are settled. And again if you were to move.”

“Every time we move? I mean, we’re not plannin’ on it, but still –“ Bucky groused.

“Oh, no, just the first year to make sure the children are settling in okay and are in a safe environment. My dear, no, we’re not going to be following you around for the rest of your life!”

“Good thing, ‘cos that could be a really, really long time,” Bucky replied.

“Oh?”

Steve replied, quelling Buck’s rebellious attitude with a look. “There’s some suspicion our respective serums may extend our lives, potentially slow down the aging process.”

“Oh, that’s um, that’s nice.” Flustered, she turned back to her notes. “It says here you’re not currently looking to adopt an infant, unless the infant would otherwise be at risk. May I ask you to explain that?”

“Well, we’d love to have a baby at some point, and we’ve always wanted a big family –“

“Seven kids,” Bucky interjected.

“Yeah, seven kids. But we didn’t plan to start off with a baby. We understand the waiting time for an infant can be lengthy,” Steve added.

“We can be patient. We can wait.”

“In the meantime, though, we do want more kids, and we gotta lotta love to share _now_. So we thought, if we could, we’d like to open our home to siblings who might otherwise be separated.”

“We don’t want that to happen. It’s really hard to live with. In fact, it sucks.”

“Y’know, I don’t understand why you didn’t leverage Stark’s lawyers to arrange everything for you. That’s actually what I started to say earlier –”

“Oh, did we forget to tell you? We met in the system. We were orphans.”

“I had sisters. They were adopted by different families. I never saw them again. Even once I was over 18, they wouldn’t tell me where they were.”

“Oh, my. So this is –“

“Very important to us to make sure that doesn’t happen to someone else.”

“I see. And you want older siblings. Teenagers?”

Steve and Bucky looked at each other and grinned. They turned back to her and nodded once.

“Well, I do have a pair of siblings, boy and girl. She’s thirteen, he’s fifteen. Parents were killed when their bodega was robbed last year. The kids were upstairs in the family apartment doing their homework. The boy, Jack, found them when he went down to the store to find out when his mother was coming up to start dinner. It’s been a rough year for them both.”

Again Steve and Bucky looked at each other, somber for a moment before Steve’s face morphed into a brilliant smile.

“We’d love to meet these kids, see if they like us.”

“If that’s okay. If that’s how this works –“

“Oh, I think that would be a splendid idea. Kids this age, and especially with a sibling in tow, they’re normally in the system until they age out. Foster care is the best they can hope for, and even then, there’s no guarantee they’d be able to stay together. So far, they’ve been lucky.”

“Are they in foster care now?”

“Yes. Nice family, but they’re not interested in adopting. And the wife is expecting a child of her own, and that often leads to foster families pulling back and ending their fostering.” She set the pen she toyed with and her glasses, folded safely, on the desk in front of her, flattened her palms on the blotter, and took a deep breath. “Thing is, they’re understandably nervous and upset. They’ve been through a lot, the boy especially, what with discovering their parents. But you know from being in the system, it’s not easy. Both their grades have suffered. The girl, Jasmine, is surly and withdrawn, and she’s been getting into fights at school. And it’s quite possible the boy Jack has PTSD. Nightmares, waking up screaming, that sort of thing. Their foster parents have expressed concerns about having them around once the baby is born.”

Steve and Bucky exchanged glances, communicating whole conversations in that look. Buck nodded, his face suddenly open and hopeful. Steve smiled and turned back to Isabelle. “We’re quite familiar with PTSD. We have a lot of coping strategies.”

“And we’ve got a support network that can’t be beat,” Bucky added sincerely. It was clear from the opening of his body language that he appreciated the honest appraisal that Isabelle offered; Steve felt some worry uncoil as well.

“I figured you might. The things you’ve done for this city, Captain. For this world,” she added softly. “And you, Sergeant. I’m sorry – I forgot to thank you both for your service,” she said seriously. “You might just be the perfect option for these kids.”

“They won’t have any issues over two dads?” Steve asked, suddenly concerned.

“Or, um, ‘differentiated’ dudes?” Bucky added, obviously uncomfortable with the new label this new world had concocted for them.

“I’m not aware of any issues, no. Why don’t we arrange for you to meet Jack and Jasmine, and see how things go?”

“And if they go okay, if we’re interested, and they’re interested, what’s the next step?” Steve reached over and captured Buck’s hand in his, and his mate, his best friend, his husband, squeezed back encouragingly.

“A home visit from our office. Reference check – a formality, I assure you, but a necessary one. Then a weekend visit. A trial run, if you like. If at that point everyone’s in agreement, we can start the formal paperwork.”

“Okay,” Buck said simply.

“Okay?” Steve asked him hopefully.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s get this party started. How soon do we get to meet them?”


	2. You're The One That I Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony Stark learns that his haven is about to be invaded, and super soldier smut is curtailed by bureaucracy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I thought I'd try an experiment. I'm going to attempt to post a little bit every day until the story is done. I normally hold back until I've got a whole thematic block written, and that can take weeks sometimes. So, instead, as a writing exercise, I'm going to post what I have done at the end of each day. 
> 
> And so, the boys don't quite get to meet their kids, but they will tomorrow. 
> 
> I've tinkered with the A/B/O world here, and made it something that is fading into history. The boys really are remnants of a disappearing past.
> 
> Kudos and comments help me focus and get more written! :)

“No.”

“But Tony –“

“No. No, no, no, no. no. no. Did I mention no?”

“Yes, yes you did. Several times, in fact. Clearly, and with conviction. It’s your best command voice, actually. And you can keep saying that, but it’s not going to make any difference, Tony.”

Pepper Potts smiled sweetly at Tony Stark as he stalked around his lab, gesticulating to underscore his chorus of negatives. Her arms wrapped around a clipboard and a sheaf of papers, she stood her ground both gracefully and implacably. Tony kept going for a few more minutes and finally just sort of petered out.

“Pretty impressive, huh?” he asked at length, chest heaving with exertion, a fine sheen of sweat on his skin. He grinned at her.

“No, not really,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Are you done now?”

“I would say yes, but only if you can explain to me how I don’t have the right to say no about something happening in my home. You know, ‘cos Stark Tower – got my name on it, my own design, kind of a thing, hmmm?”

“It’s 12 per cent mine, remember?”

“Yes, that is true. And you already occupy your 12 per cent. Y’know, with your offices and your conference rooms and your yoga studio …”

“Those offices and conference rooms are used by Stark Industries. They don’t come out of my 12 per cent. And the yoga studio is for Bruce. Try again.”

“Clearly I’m not coming out on top in this deal, am I?”

“That would be a no. A _binding_ no,” Pepper emphasized.

“So explain to me why a perfectly balanced ecosystem, designed to always remain absent of progeny, is suddenly going to have friggin’ kids living here?”

“Steve and Bucky.”

“Capsicle and his boy toy? Oh God, is Barnes in heat again? Have they spawned?” Tony demanded with a growing hint of panic in his voice.

“No. They’re adopting. Remember, Steve had that little procedure? Right before Barnes’s _last_ heat.”

“So, no little Rogers-Barneses, huh? So they’re gonna adopt? Isn’t that, well, a little messy? Not that omegan childbirth isn’t … well, strange and yeah, definitely messy. But genetically? I mean, there aren’t many alphas or omegas left – they’re going to let their line die out? I mean, it’s their choice, but I’m surprised.”

“Two different serums, Tony. They decided they didn’t want to pass that genetic cocktail onto a child.”

“Yeah, there is that,” Tony agreed. “Damn. That had to have been a tough decision. _They_ like kids.”

“Yes, Tony it was. You don’t remember discussing this about two months ago? When we agreed to allow Steve and Bucky to expand their family while still living in the Tower? For security purposes? You don’t remember signing this?” she held out a stapled document printed on legal paper.

“I never pay attention to anything you give me to sign. You know that.”

“I do. That’s why I give you things to sign, Tony,” she smiled at him brightly. “Now, Steve and Bucky are going to meet the kids today. There’ll be an inspection of the premises to ensure it’s a safe place for children. I need to know what you’re working on, and whether it presents a danger to those kids.”

“Short answer – when am I ever _not_ working on something potentially dangerous?”

“Great. Well, make sure you can put a lid on it and make it completely not dangerous, Tony. We are not risking Steve and Bucky’s happiness on a ‘splodey toy.”

“Hey, what about my happiness? You know, the happiness that comes from living in a child-free zone? In my own house? Hmmm?” he demanded as she turned on her heel and marched out of the lab, the clipped beat of her heels following her down the hall.

“Just do it, Tony!” floated back to him, and he shrugged, his expression betraying the fact he’d already forgotten about the conversation, and was focusing instead on some new idea.

&&&

Bucky stood in front of the full-length mirror and considered his reflection. He turned to the side and then turned full-on again. He tilted his head and ran his palm over the flat expanse of his belly. Then he shifted his weight to push his abdomen out, puffed up his cheeks, and grimaced at himself. He blew out the air in his cheeks and then arched his back so he appeared distinctly pear-shaped, much like a very pregnant omega, and rubbed his hand over his tummy. He frowned.

“Having second thoughts?” Steve asked, stepping up behind him and sliding his arms around his artificially distended abdomen. He grinned as he rubbed circles over the swell of Bucky’s stomach, nestling his chin on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Not really,” Buck said, still considering himself critically in the mirror. “It’s just that I’ve been doing some research after we spoke to Isabelle. Turns out there aren’t many of us left in the world. The ‘differentiated’ population’s been waging a war of attrition for the past couple of generations.”

Steve straightened and wrapped his arms around Bucky’s mid-section, pulling him close and causing Bucky to abandon his imaginary pregnancy and lean into Steve’s caress. He slid his own hands over Steve’s, and pressed his head back against Steve’s shoulder. “You mean there are fewer mutation births?”

“Fewer to give birth, too. Alphas are always the first to sign up when war is declared. And their omega partners often served right there with them," Bucky squeezed Steve's hand, warm and firm under his own. "From what I can tell, they used to fill the military colleges, but there are so few left after so many wars in the past two generations, the alpha population has gone past critical. And omegas who weren’t bonded, or who survived the death of their partner, didn’t choose to breed with ‘undifferentiated humans’ – what we called betas.”

“So we’re a dying race,” Steve said sadly. He rubbed his face against Bucky’s thoughtfully, breathing in his scent and closing his eyes with pleasure. “Biology won out, I guess.”

“Dunno. Maybe. Part of me feels like I’m lettin’ the side down by not having pups. But another part of me realizes that the world for alphas and omegas is shrinking. We were lucky, we found each other before we even presented, knew we wanted to be together, and our families weren’t happy, but they accepted it. But a young omega today – there aren’t many options. And that ‘differentiated’ community that Isabelle mentioned? They’re as snooty and exclusive as any upper East Side toff back in our day. And they’re notorious for in-breeding.”

“Ugh. Two-headed babies and stuff?”

“Dunno about that, but thinkin’ we’re doing the right thing. But I can’t help wonderin’,” he added, smoothing his hand over his abdomen again.

Steve’s hand caught Bucky’s hand and pressed it into the smooth flesh of his tummy, laced his fingers with Bucky’s. “You’d be beautiful,” he breathed into Bucky’s ear, hot, wet puffs of desire curling around the swirl of his ear. “I won’t lie, the idea makes me hot.”

“You’re always hot,” Bucky admonished, but still he turned his face for a kiss Steve was only too eager to provide. “And you got snipped, remember?” Bucky turned in Steve’s embrace and molded his body to the warm, solid mass of Steve. “And since when do you like seein’ me all fat and shit? You got a chubby kink, Cap?”

“Got a Bucky kink, babe. Fat or thin, bald or long-haired, I’ll take you any way I can get you,” Steve whispered, letting the tip of his tongue drift around the edge of Bucky’s ear as his fingers slid through Bucky’s hair, massaging and stroking.

“Ain’t never goin’ bald,” Bucky announced, capturing Steve’s mouth with his. “Ain’t no way I’m givin’ _that_ up,” he added, pushing his scalp toward Steve’s clever fingers. “God, you turn me on,” he sighed breathlessly.

“God, we’ve got an appointment,” Steve groaned as Bucky’s hands roamed free over his body. Thank fuck for Tony Stark and his fine-tuning of Bucky’s prosthetic – it was as finely balanced as a tuning fork, and as dexterous as Bucky’s flesh arm. And those arms were tightening around Steve and drawing him toward the bedroom. “Buck, we gotta get ready – we’re gonna meet our kids today.”

“Nope, changed my mind, I just want sex. No kids,” Bucky muttered between wet, sloppy kisses, walking backward with his arms locked around Steve’s waist, hands kneading the pliant flesh of Steve’s ass.

“Kids now, sex later.”’

“Not even a blow job?”

“Not even.”

“Not even a hand job in the car? Happy’s drivin’, no chance of an accident …”

“You are incorrigible.”

“That’s why you love me, isn’t it? I remind you what it’s like to be sassy, Captain Tightass.”

“You’re gonna remind me what it’s like to be late,” Steve groaned. “We gotta _go_ , Buck.”

“Okay. But only because you’re gonna have to make it up to me later. Repeatedly. With interest. ‘Cos you love me.”

“’Cos I love you.”

“And I love your big damn cock. And you. I love you, too.”

&&&


	3. We Will Rock You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Steve and Bucky get to meet the children they hope to adopt. There are secrets to be learned, and alliances to be forged. 
> 
> And smut to be hinted at. :)

“You two gonna be okay in there?” Happy called over the headrest of the front seat. 

“I think we’re safe from a coupla teenagers, Hap,” Bucky countered with a grin from the backseat. “Just a meet ‘n’ greet today.”

“Yeah, well, some teenagers can be a handful, y’know. My sister’s kids – Jesus! Last week her older son set fire to the backyard – the entire backyard, I tell ya! Took out the old swing set, the above-ground pool, and the grill area. Seems he was trying to duplicate one of Mr. Stark’s more spectacular inventions.”

“And I’m sure the fact that you know Stark personally had nothin’ to do with that decision,” Bucky observed, earning a snigger from Steve beside him.

“Huh, y’think? Damn. Maybe I better have a talk with ‘im, whaddaya think?”

“I think we’re here,” Steve announced eagerly, and he and Bucky were scrambling for the door as Happy pulled the car to a stop outside the drab city building.

“So, um, I’ll wait here, or you think you’re gonna be a while?” Happy called to their departing butts, but Steve relented and shoved his head back in the passenger side. “Give us an hour? Maybe two? I’ll text you if we need more than one, okay? Is that okay? I mean, can you find something you want to do for a while?”

“I’ll visit my other sister. She doesn’t have kids, thank fuck. Good luck, Cap!” Happy called as Bucky’s hand materialized over Steve’s shoulder and grabbed him by the collar, hauling him back out of the car.

“C’mon! If you’re gonna withhold sex so we’re on time, I definitely don’t wanna be late!”

&&&

Bucky sails through security, the camouflage mesh designed by Tony convincing the security x-ray that his prosthetic arm is regular flesh and blood. Once through the checkpoint, Steve and Bucky’s fingers naturally gravitate to one another, linking together in a nervous and excited handclasp.

They made their way back to Isabelle Elliott’s office, knocking shoulders and tangling legs as they went. To a casual observer, they were two young men in love, with eyes only for each other. In reality, that’s exactly what they were, plus more, and they were hoping to extend their love beyond just the two of them.

Isabelle smiled at them as they crowded into her office, waving them into the cracked plastic visitors’ chairs that groaned under the weight of the super soldiers. Both young men grinned at her, looking a little breathless. It was Steve who broke the silence.

“Are they here?”

“Yes, they’re waiting in the conference room down the hall. It’s a bit impersonal, but you understand why you couldn’t meet them where they currently live, I hope.”

“We’re all about security,” Bucky agreed, eyes straying toward the door and the conference room down the hall beyond it. “Seriously, I design security systems for fun.”

“He does. I keep trying to get him to take up a cheaper hobby, but he really likes running the disaster protocols. Unfortunately, so does the rest of the team.”

“Admit it, you have fun with those, too,” Bucky admonished him with a sparkle in his eye. Oh, that’s how it was gonna be, eh? Steve snagged Bucky’s hand again and squeezed, hard. Like, if it was a normal hand, it would be bone dust hard. Bucky just grinned at him, all teeth.

“Okay, then,” Isabelle changed the subject awkwardly, pulling a pair of manila folders from the pile in her wire in-basket and rising stiffly. “No time like the present, hmmm?”

Bucky leapt up to open the door for her, his eagerness shining in his eyes and the way his whole body seemed to vibrate. Steve made a face at him, disappointed he got edged out on the chivalrous act, so he just slung his arm over Bucky’s shoulders while Buck snaked his arm around Steve’s waist. Side by side, they followed Isabelle down the hall, each keeping the other grounded.

Finally they reached an old wooden door, shiny from years of polish, with a pebbled glass window and the words, “Conference Room A” in gold lettering. Isabelle smiled encouragingly at them, and turned the knob. She opened the door into the room and shooed them inside.

Seated at the conference table were two nervous looking teenagers, a sandy-haired boy with the hungry look of a teenager who’d entered his growth spurt, and a petite dark-haired girl with wary eyes and a taste for neon colors.

“Jack and Jasmine Firth,” Isabelle introduced. “This is Captain Steven Rogers and Sergeant James Barnes.”

“No way,” Jack breathed. “You didn’t tell us they were superheroes! Could you introduce us to Iron Man?”

“I’d rather meet Pepper Potts – she’s an inspiration for independent women everywhere,” Jasmine added in a voice that hadn’t quite left childhood yet, but she held herself as though she’d already entered the world.

Steve chuckled as Buck turned sideways and rolled his eyes. “Fuckin’ Stark,” he said under his breath.

“Language, Sergeant,” Steve reminded softly, and then stepped into the room. “Actually, if we all decide we’d like to try this, you’ll be staying at Stark Tower, at least until we all decide how we want to do things long term.”

“Now, I want to remind everyone that this is just an introduction, no obligation on _anyone’s_ part,” she emphasized, looking at each of the children in turn. “Talk, get to know one another, decide if you want to try going to the next step.”

“Hope your closets are in order – you’re gonna be investigated so hard, they’ll find your skeleton’s skeleton,” Jasmine pointed out jadedly.

“I’m bettin’ you’ve been cleared before, haven’t you? SHIELD, NSA, CIA?” Jack asked excitedly. Steve smiled at his enthusiasm, carefully pulling out a chair and sliding into it.

“Yep, all them alphabet soups have taken a gander at our skeletons. Literally in the case of SHIELD,” Bucky answered, grinning as he dropped into a chair only marginally less uncomfortable than the seats in Isabelle’s office.

Isabelle was still there, and Buck turned around to glance at her. “You’re staying.”

“Regulations. Until the children are remanded into your custody, as representative of the department needs to be present at all times.” She shuffled back toward the wall, and pulled a seat into the corner. “Don’t mind me. I’m not even here.”

“Okay, she’s not even here,” Bucky repeated. “So, got any questions for us?”  
  


“You’re an omega,” Jasmine said warily. “And you’re an alpha,” she pointed to Steve. “So does that mean you belong to the Pack? ‘Cos they’re way creepy.”

Steve frowned and looked at Bucky. “The Pack?”

“That’s the differentiated community’s name for itself. The Pack,” Isabelle offered from her not-there vantage point.

“Oh. The people who don’t have anything to do with anyone else,” Steve elaborated. “Got it. No. Not interested.”

Jasmine seemed to find that answer acceptable, because she relaxed a bit, venturing a shy smile at them. “So you’re not into all that weird stuff?”

Bucky drew a breath through his nose and shook his head. “Actually, I don’t know what kinda weird stuff they get up to, but I like to think we’re pretty normal. For guys in their 90s who spent 70 years in and out of ice.” He flashed her the patented Barnes grin and her eye lit up, ever so slightly, and her smile tipped into dimples. “There wasn’t anything like this Pack thing when we were young, and we didn’t miss it then. Kinda think we don’t need it now.”

Steve didn’t miss the way that Jack’s hands flattened out on the tabletop, stretching the fingers and then relaxing. Deliberate, calculated. “What about you, Jack, got any questions for us?”

“How come you’re not having kids of your own? I mean, you guys can do that, right?”

“Yeah, but, you know – 70 years in and out of ice. A lot’s happened to us, and we don’t even know all of it. This just feels better.”

Jack and Jasmine both nodded, absorbing the information. Bucky took the opportunity to ask a question of his own, “How about school? Anything interest you?”

“I like fashion design and art,” Jasmine told them. “I’d like to go into fashion marketing, I think. Y’know, work on magazines like _Vogue_ and _Elle_. Or maybe start my own fashion blog.”

“Well, you can do that now, can’t you? Blogging’s a low cost activity,” Bucky observed.

“Yeah, but to do a proper fashion blog, y’gotta have clothes. And the Emersons are nice an all, but they have conservative taste in clothes. Good enough for school, but not too good.”

“Need a little more flash in your wardrobe,” Bucky guessed, and Steve chuckled while Jasmine beamed and Jack snorted. 

“He was a clothes horse when he was younger. Half his pay went toward his clothing budget,” Steve teased.

“Yeah, well halfa yours went toward art supplies. Seriously, Steve, how many pencils does one guy need?” Bucky demanded, reaching for Steve’s hand and finding it reaching for him. Twining their fingers together, Bucky absently brought their knuckles to his lips and ghosted a kiss there.

“You guys are really comfortable with who you are,” Jack said quietly. “It’s cool.”

The gentle observation startled Bucky and he nearly dropped Steve’s hand, but Steve covered their hands with his other one. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t always easy. Back in our day, it wasn’t accepted for two men to be together. Lotta people thought I was Bucky’s omega, and he was the alpha – if you’ve read anything about me, you probably know I was a lot smaller and had a lot of health problems –“

“A metric crapton of health problems,” Bucky interjected, earning him a warning frown from Steve. “What?”

“Language, remember? Anyway, they figured out we were together in some way, and we got a lot of grief over it. Was kinda nice to wake up in the 21st century and find that a lot that prejudice went away – or at least it stopped being okay.” Steve watched Jack closely, noticing that the boy’s nervousness seemed to have amped up again. And something else. Normally Steve was too aware of Bucky’s scent to catch anyone else’s, but he kept getting the sense of someone else, faint, maybe too weak, but still there on the periphery of his awareness. His attention kept getting drawn back to Jack, and he had to wonder why. “What about you, Jack? What do you hope to do?”

“Engineering. I love to design stuff, build stuff. Robotics, mostly. Tony Stark is like, my hero. I’ve been working on a little robot of my own, buying parts whenever I save up enough.”

“As you can see, Jack’s wardrobe has suffered as a result,” Jasmine noted with a sniff and an arched eyebrow.

‘That’s cool, though. It’s cool, right, Steve?” Bucky asked with a smile that stretched from his lips to his eyes.

“Very cool. Robotics is the future. _If_ y’listen to Tony,” he qualified with a grin.

“So you really live at Stark Tower?” Jack asked in awe. 

Before Steve had a chance to answer, Jasmine chimed in with, “Is that where we’d live, like forever?”

“Well, we would like to have our own place eventually. But we figured we’d wait a while until the whole family knows what it wants,” Steve answered, taking a deep breath and settling back in his chair. Bucky’s hand tightened around his.

“What, like an apartment or something?” Jasmine guessed. “I mean, you’re already at Park Avenue. You can’t get much more uptown than that!”

“You like uptown.”

“Great shops, great designers. But there’s some terrific stuff happening in some of the neighborhoods. Hey, if we lived with you, could you get me into Fashion Week?”

“Fashion Week?” Steve repeated, confused.

“Yeah, you turned it down the past two years. Maybe next year we ask for the family plan,” Bucky said with a smile.

"Seriously, you _had_ tickets and you turned them down?” Jasmine looked like she was about to weep.

“Have y’seen how he dresses?” Bucky demanded, hooking a thumb toward Steve’s trademark grandpa clothes. “You and me’ll have to gang up on grandpa here and teach ‘im how to dress properly, huh?”

Jasmine lit up at that, a glow that started deep within and simply shone out through her luminous young skin. Steve felt a swell of pride – his incredible husband had already won over Jasmine, and now they just had to make sure Jack was on-board.

“D’you think Mr. Stark would let me see his workshop?” Jack asked quietly, and Bucky chuckled.

“Kid, Stark loves nothing more than showing off his workshop and all his suits. And robots. And stuff. You two are gonna get on like, well, like crazy,” Bucky caught himself in time and edited out a saltier response. Jack’s grin practically split his face in two. Barnes: 2, Kids: Hooked.

“So,” Steve said suddenly, letting go of Bucky’s hand and clapping his palms together gently. “What do you think? Think you could put up with us two geezers?”

Their excited responses spilled one over the other, but the general gist was positive. Isabelle took the opportunity to rise from her observation post and come back over to the table. “So, are we agreed?” she asked them all, and she counted off four assents. “Okay. Well, kids, you’ll go back to the Emersons while the department conducts its checks on the Captain and Sergeant – just a formality, but it’s for your safety,” she interjects over their objections. “And once we’ve confirmed everything checks out, you can schedule a weekend sleepover. At the Tower, correct, gentlemen?” she directed the last to Steve and Bucky, who both nodded vigorously.

She beamed at them all. “Okay. Well, Jack and Jasmine, your foster parents are waiting to pick you up, and gentlemen, if you could go back to my office, we can discuss next steps after I see the children off.”

&&&

“Did you smell that?” Bucky asked as soon as they were alone in Isabelle’s office again.

“Oh, thank God, I thought I was going crazy,” Steve answered, grabbing at Bucky’s hands while they pivoted into the plastic chairs – as much as they could – to face each other.

“Can’t guarantee you’re not going nuts, pal, but your senses work as well as mine. Definitely omega pheromones. Weak, probably hasn’t had a heat yet. Pretty sure it’s the boy.”

“Is it a coincidence?” Steve suggested doubtfully.

Bucky snorted. “Fuck me sideways if it is. We’re the most famous alpha/omega pair in the modern world. She knew what she was doing. Wonder if she ever did covert ops?”

Their speculation was cut short by Isabelle’s arrival back in her office. She seemed positively gleeful when she hurried back in and darted to her seat behind the desk. “That went splendidly!” she practically crowed.

“And when were you going to tell us?” Bucky asked flatly.

“Tell you?”

“That the boy is ‘differentiated’.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’.”

Steve cocked his head to one side and considered her. “You weren’t sure,” he observed, surprised.

“No,” Isabelle admitted soberly. She drew a deep breath and leaned forward, lacing her fingers together on the desk blotter. “The foster parents had their suspicions, and they contacted the department. Mrs. Emerson really is pregnant and wants to discontinue fostering, but with a differentiated child, we need to be extra vigilant. Placement of those two is a delicate matter.”

“Why?”

“The Pack. The fact is, our department rarely even gets to see differentiated children because the Pack snaps them up. They take care of the legal details through their private army of lawyers. An omega child is highly prized by the Pack.”

“I think I’m going to be sick at the answer, but why?” Bucky asked tensely.

“Breeding stock. Male or female, if they have the omega differentiation and can bear children, they do. Until they’re bred out. The Pack’s been in-breeding the past couple of generations, and now they’re trying to get new blood into the mix.”

“Christ, it’s worse that puppy mills – at least there are laws being passed to stop it, but there’s nothin’ for omegas,“ Bucky swore angrily.

“That’s child abuse!” Steve cried, fingers digging into the arms of his chair, crushing the plastic. He pulled his hands back, horrified, apologizing. She waved him off with a tutting sound.

“Only if we can prove it. And they’ve been careful to ensure that no one goes on the record,” she told them sadly. “Technically the Pack exists to protect the rights and welfare of its members – all alpha and omega families in New York. But over time, as the differentiated population has dwindled and their gene pool has gotten shallower, they’ve become something strange and frankly horrible.” 

“Does the Pack know about Jack?” Bucky asked softly, his eyes dark with anger.

“I’m hoping not. The Emersons genuinely care for Jack and Jasmine, so they’ve been very discreet. But with a new baby on the way, they can’t take on a young omega in the early stages of heat, especially not if the Pack might show interest.”

“But if Jack is a resident in Stark Tower …” Steve prompted.

“They won’t be able to touch him. And with you as parents, you actually have an idea of what he’d be going through. Most people have no idea how differentiated biology works. Trust me, you two coming in here when you did was like a gift from God. I am, of course, assuming that you’re interested in taking them on.” 

Steve and Bucky looked at each other for a long moment, their eyes communicating more than words could. Then they turned back to her, grabbed each other’s hands again, and nodded in unison. “Is there any way to accelerate the checks? We both have security clearances, if that helps –“

“I’ll do everything I can to spike the process. It’s Monday – would you like to plan on having them stay over this weekend?”

“Hell, yes,” Bucky answered. “Give the word and we’re there to pick them up.”

“Yes,” Steve echoed fervently. And Isabelle Elliott beamed at them both, like they were good little boys who’d just earned a cookie.

&&&

The ride back to the Tower was quiet as they both considered everything they’d learned. It was more than they’d bargained for, but there was no question it was the right thing to do. They could help Jack in ways no one else could. They’d wanted to share their lives and love with children, and they were committed.

Happy was garrulous as always, regaling them with tales of his sister who’d escaped having kids (so far), and the latest exploits of his sister with the brood as well. It was like pleasant white noise washing over them as they absorbed the revelations of the day.

They thanked Happy for his help in getting to and from their appointment, and he shrugged off the gratitude, as always, with a shy grin. He still hero-worshipped Steve, and was generally in awe of Bucky. Both of them had tried to tease Happy out of those habits, but he’d held onto his hero-worship like a badge of honor. 

Once in the elevator, Bucky stepped into Steve’s embrace, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder and circling his waist with his hands. He buried his nose in the crook of Steve’s neck , humming into the scent glands there. His lips trailed softly across Steve’s collar bone and up the side of his neck, pausing at the sensitive spot behind Steve’s ear, where the tip of Bucky’s tongue swirled softly.

“So, I guess you’re holding me to my promise,” Steve said softly, his arms tightening around Bucky’s torso as his hands pressed into Bucky’s back to draw him closer. 

Bucky nodded against Steve’s neck. “Hmm-mmm. It’s later. Need some feel-better sex.”

“Feel-better sex. Yeah, okay,” Steve agreed, smiling, letting his hands roam until he was soothing Bucky’s shoulders, fingers drifting upward into his hair.

“Mmm,” Bucky murmured approvingly, letting his hands drift downward, raking along Steve’s sides and lazing toward his ass. “Rooftop.”

“Rooftop? Mmm, that feels good,” Steve sighed, ghosting a kiss against Bucky’s hair. “Should we stop off at our floor first –“

“Gotta stash up there. No need.” Bucky’s hands kneaded at Steve’s muscular ass cheeks.

“Oh, God,” Steve huffed. “You gotta stash of sex supplies on the roof.”

“Gotta stash of sex supplies all over the Tower. Except Stark’s lab – I think he used it.” Bucky lifted his head from where he’d been doing magical things to Steve’s neck. “Might have to replenish so we can use it later. But right now – I wanna be top of the world with my best guy,” he crushed his lips to Steve’s, and Steve had the presence of mind to stab the rooftop button in the elevator before losing himself in that kiss. The fleeting hope that this would be an express elevators was the last conscious thought Steve had for over 50 floors.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I couldn't help myself. Plot ensues ...


	4. Workin' for the Weekend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky pass inspection and get to bring the kids home for a trial weekend. Comments are made regarding Steve's decorating style. Wait until they get to his wardrobe ... :)

“Oh my God, what are those two idiots up to _now_?” 

“You know this is my favorite thing, right? Watching you go crazy when the nonagenarians get weird? Honestly, Pep, you should bottle it. I am _so_ hot for you right now,” Tony Stark babbled while Pepper fumed at the image on the security feed on her laptop. “Just what is it they’ve done now, hmm?” 

“They bringing paint in the front door. They’re trying to redecorate _before_ the kids get here. Ugh! I’m sorry, Tony, I’ve got a crisis to avert. I’ll see you later, okay?” 

“Did you hear me say I’m hot for you?” he asked the empty air where Pepper had sat a moment ago. The expression on his face was befuddled and bereft. “Guess not …” 

&&&

“No.” 

“But Pepper –“ 

“No.” 

“But these are great colors –“ 

“To a 90-plus year old man who’s been on ice for most of the last century, sure. For two modern teenagers? _No_.” Pepper stood with her arms crossed over her chest, barring Bucky and Steve from making a move on the guest bedrooms in their apartment. 

“I think she’s got us beat, Steve,” Bucky said from where he was standing with paint cans hanging off his fingers. 

“Think you’re right, Buck. But we want to make sure the kids feel welcome –“ 

“And they will. Just little touches. You don’t redecorate for them – if they move in, you want them to redecorate themselves, to make their rooms their own little havens. For now – touches.” 

“Touches.” 

“Touches that I will take care of. Because I can’t trust you not to put pink bows all over her room, and baseball bats all over his.” 

Bucky stealthily nudged one of the bags further behind the couch, out of Pepper’s eyeline. Steve kicked another bag sideways so it landed under the coffee table. 

“Uh-huh,” Pepper observed sourly, glancing at each of them in turn. “You have receipts, you can return those monstrosities. I, on the other hand, will take care of adding some homey elements to each of the rooms. Just enough to make the rooms feel welcoming, but not overpower them. And you need to think about a budget.” 

“Budget,” Bucky repeated blankly. 

“Budget for them to redecorate the rooms when they move in. They’ll need an allowance.” 

“Oh. Okay. Any, um, any suggestions?” Steve asked warily, grimacing and fingering the neck on his form-fitting t-shirt. He really didn’t want to screw this up. Facing the wrath of Pepper Potts was scarier than the Red Skull. Plus there were the kids to consider. 

“Start with a thousand. See what they can do with it.” 

“Thousand, check,” Bucky answered. He’d somehow managed to pull a notebook out of his painted on skinny jeans, and was taking notes. 

“So, return the … stuff,” she waggled her fingers dismissively, “and I’ll take care of the touches. Don’t come back for at least,” she conferred with her watch, “two hours. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Bucky agreed readily. “I just gotta get something from our room, and we’ll be outta your hair. And thanks, Pepper – really appreciate it. We really want the kids to fall in love with the place.” 

“Yeah, don’t know what we’d’ve done if you hadn’t stopped us,” Steve agreed, feeling a little foolish. Why hadn’t they just gone to Pepper in the first place? Oh yeah, she was the busiest woman Steve and Bucky knew, yet she always found time for them. They really need to think of something nice to do for her. Although, with their track record, they’d probably screw that up, too. 

“You’d’ve embarrassed yourselves, and convinced the children that you were old-fashioned dorks,” she smiled sweetly at them. 

“Well, that’s true,” Bucky said coming back out of the bedroom, stuffing something into his pocket – how did he get anything into that pocket, those jeans were so tight? – “at least of him. I’m gonna be the cool dad,” he grinned at them. 

“Of course you are,” Pepper agreed absently. “Now, get gone!” she shooed them out of their own apartment, and Steve and Bucky snagged their bags and hightailed it to the elevator, where Bucky immediately hit the rooftop button. 

“I thought we were returning the stuff,” Steve protested, rustling the bag clutched in his hands. 

“Don’t need two hours for that,” Bucky pointed out, sliding a hand around Steve’s waist and tucking it into his back pocket. “Got better ideas for how to spend that much downtime,” he added, leaning in close, breathing on Steve’s earlobe, then sucking it hungrily into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the lobe and into the curl of his ear, and Steve felt his knees turning to liquid. Bucky’s other hand came round to grasp his side, thumb travelling up to graze over Steve’s nipple under that skin-tight t-shirt. “Got you, babe,” Bucky whispered against his skin, sending shockwaves of sparking electricity along his nerve endings. 

“The roof? What if someone sees us?” Steve gasped as Bucky mounted his campaign on Steve’s neck and shoulder. Steve’s fingers dug into Bucky’s flesh shoulder, massaging and stroking. 

“Nah. Nat and Barton are off-site. Stark’s still working his way through his pancakes. Pep’s in our room. Thor’s in London with Jane and the gang. And Banner’s in his lab workin’ on some new plant extract. Sam’s still in DC. Who’d I miss?” 

“You know where everyone is,” Steve said, pulling back from Bucky’s ministrations to look him in the eye. 

“I always know where _everyone_ is, Steve. Can’t turn that off. I’m always in security mode. Look at it this way,” he pecked a kiss on Steve’s lips. “It’ll be hella useful when Jasmine starts dating.” He grinned wide at Steve. “So, roof?” 

“What about aerial?” 

“Nobody’s scheduled to be in our airspace for at least four more hours. Traffic helicopter makes its rounds closer to rush hour. We got a window of opportunity here, Steve. Gonna take it, or gonna blow it?” 

“And I’m guessing you picked up lube when you were in the bedroom since we already used your rooftop stash.” Bucky grinned, nodding and waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “What a Boy Scout.” 

“Huh. If they gave badges for blow jobs and rimming, I’d be _so_ in,” Bucky chuckled, nipping at Steve’s lip before devouring his mouth and crowding him against the back wall of the elevator. 

&&&

The week both dragged and zipped by in a blur. The inspection occurred on Wednesday, and afterward Bucky teased Steve mercilessly about his little old lady hand-wringing while the inspector looked over their apartment and then grilled the pair of them. Fortunately, with Pepper in command, everything was ship-shape, and they received the go-ahead on Thursday afternoon to have the kids for the weekend. Pepper was thrilled and seriously pleased with herself. Tony threw a tantrum, making it clear that he was not happy about not being the only kid in the Tower. 

But … the kids were coming to stay with them for the weekend. 

_It was really happening._

Happy insisted on taking them back to Brooklyn to pick up the kids. The kids were coming from school, so it wasn’t quite rush hour, and traffic wasn’t bad. He kept up a stream of chatter all the way, which helped to diffuse the tension and nerves both Bucky and Steve experienced. 

“I’ll get a parking place and wait for you in the lobby,” Happy told them as they started to get out of the car. 

“Thanks, Happy. We appreciate everything you do for us,” Steve told him sincerely, clapping him on the shoulder. 

“Yeah, just remember that I make a great uncle, okay? Just don’t ask me to babysit. I’m crap at that.” 

“I’m sure that isn’t true, Hap,” Bucky said as he stood on the curbside looking in. “You’re just a big kid!” 

“That’s why I’m a crap babysitter!” Happy called back as he pulled away, causing the Rogers-Barneses to chuckle in his wake. 

Then they fell silent, looking at each other with panic rising in their respective eyes. “Ready?” Steve asked in a small voice, putting his hand out, palm up, to Bucky. 

Bucky laid his hand in Steve’s and squeezed. “Where you lead, babe. Let’s go.” 

Holding fast to each other, they made their way into the building. 

&&&

Mrs. Emerson was an attractive woman in her mid-thirties with softly curling dark hair, a dusky complexion, and a welcoming smile. She started to rise when Steve and Bucky were ushered into the conference room, but the swell of her belly slowed her movements enough that Steve was able to hurry around to greet her and urge her back into her seat. He shook her hand and she squeezed it gratefully, then introduced Bucky. 

“I didn’t realize that the kids were going to go live with someone so famous, Captain,” Mrs. Emerson said, toying with the strap of her purse awkwardly as they took their seats. As before, Isabelle was quietly sitting in her seat in the corner, and Jack and Jasmine were seated on the other side of the conference table, packed bags at their feet. Jasmine had a little overnight case and a small suitcase, while Jack had a backpack. 

“Te-ess!” Jasmine whined softly. 

Ah. So the kids called their foster parents by their first names. Good to know. 

“Jas-mine!” Tess Emerson whined back with a grin. “She doesn’t like to be reminded of how ‘uncool’ I am. I’m eight months pregnant, Jas, I’m past trying to be cool,” she added and stuck her tongue out at Jasmine for good measure. 

Steve and Bucky both exchanged glances and chuckled. “Congratulations, Mrs. Emerson,” Steve said. “Your first?” 

“Maybe only. The big belly I expected, but the swollen feet and the lower back pain? I didn’t sign on for that!” 

Steve traced a pattern with his thumb on Bucky’s palm, and Bucky gave him a grateful smile. Yeah, Steve didn’t think Bucky would have tolerated swollen feet and back pain with half as much grace as Mrs. Emerson did. 

“Um, so the kids are packed.” 

“Yeah, we were wondering if it would be okay if we brought them back on Monday morning, directly to school – if that’s okay with you guys,” he nodded toward Jack and Jasmine,”if that wouldn’t be an imposition?” he asked Mrs. Emerson. 

“Actually that would be great,” she sighed with relief. “I’ve got a pre-natal appointment Monday morning, and I was afraid to ask –“ 

“I packed enough to last until Monday,” Jasmine announced. “Jack is happy wearing the same thing every day, so he’s good until next week.” 

Bucky looked directly at Jack and grinned at him. “I had sisters. Four of ‘em. I can share some coping strategies.” 

“Hey, don’t start giving him ideas!” Jasmine protested. 

“Somethin’ tells me your brother needs all the help he can get dealing with you, Miss Jasmine.” 

“I’ll take any help I can get!” Jack answered. “Four, huh? That’s rough, man.” 

“Trust me, you reach a point where you treasure every one. What I wouldn’t give to see my sisters again. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t get up to some prankage in my day. And us guys gotta stick together, after all.” 

“Hey! I’m gonna be livin’ in a house full of dudes, and you’re stickin’ together? What about girl power, huh?” 

“Oh, trust me, Pepper is looking forward to making your acquaintance,” Steve interjected. 

“She is? Pepper Potts? Pepper Potts knows about me? Seriously?” 

“Seriously. She’s looking forward to meeting you. I think there may be shopping involved at some point. She’s been coaching us so we’re not too dorky,” Steve added with a shrug. Bucky glanced over at him and shook his head sadly. Oh, maybe Steve shouldn’t have said that. 

Mrs. Emerson eased herself back in her seat with a small groan, and glanced around the table. “I’m gonna miss you two, you know.” She sniffled slightly. 

Isabelle took that as her cue, and rose from her seat and walked over quietly to join them at the conference table. “Well, it’s just for the weekend this time, Tess. And maybe it’s time we let everyone get on with their weekend, hmm?” 

Mrs. Emerson smiled a watery smile, looking at Jack and Jasmine with longing, even as she straightened her spine and touched her distended abdomen with tenderness. She reached a hand out to Bucky and looked directly into his eyes. “Thank you,” she said quietly so even Steve had to strain a little to hear her. “Isabelle told me about you.” 

Buck smiled gently at her and squeezed her hand. “We’ll take good care of them,” he answered softly. Steve felt a surge of pride in his husband, his best friend, his mate for life. They would, too. They’d all take care of each other. 

But first, they had to get through this weekend. 

&&&

“Wow, it’s really … beige.” 

Jasmine was glancing around the living room of the apartment warily, head scrunched down slightly like she expected to be hit by the beige fairy any second. 

“It’s a neutral background,yes. But the color’s called ‘desert sand’,” Steve corrected, putting her suitcase at the door to her room. “This is your room,” he announced. 

“Yeah, the color’s beige,” Bucky agreed, showing Jack to his room. 

“Didn’t they have colors back in the old days?” Jasmine demanded, eyes narrowed. 

“Sure did,” Bucky agreed, tossing himself over the back of the couch to land gracefully stretched out on the length of it. “Bright red lipsticks and green Army uniforms – his was brown, ‘cos he was a captain.” 

“Yep, all those colors existed then. But for part of my life I was color blind. I can appreciate color, I just want the background to be soothing.” 

“Beige isn’t soothing. It’s beige,” Jasmine argued. 

“Kid’s gotta point,” Bucky agreed from his vantage point on the couch. 

“So, are our rooms beige, too?” Jasmine asked, hooking a thumb over her shoulder to the room Steve had designated as hers. 

“Right now, yes,” Steve replied, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. “If you decide you want to live with us, when you move in, you can decorate your room the way you see fit.” 

“Seriously.” Hand on hip, chin dropped, eyes unconvinced. 

“Seriously,” Steve inclined his head. 

“So, we don’t gotta live with beige,” Jasmine pressed, inching toward her room. 

“Jas, leave off,” Jack protested, opening the door to his room. He glanced in and shrugged. “’S’nice.” 

“Like I said, if you decide to live with us, once you’re here permanently, you can redecorate.” 

“What about this room?” Jasmine asked. 

“Mine,” Steve answered. 

“Well, mine, too. I vote for not-beige, but he keeps telling me he wants a neutral background to the art. But I ask you – do you see any art?” Bucky demanded dramatically, waving at the bare, beige walls. 

“I’m still picking out what pieces I want to have framed, Buck. You know that.” 

“Wait, you’re an artist, too? You’re Captain America, and an artist. What do you do, juggle?” Jasmine asked Bucky. 

“As a matter of fact … no. Was never any good at that.” He swung his feet back to the ground and sat up, resting his prosthetic arm along the back of the couch, and peered over it at the others. “But I’m a heckuva dancer,” he grinned at her. 

“What, ballroom?” 

“I can cut a rug with the best of ‘em,” Bucky claimed indignantly. 

“Don’t insult his dancing, Jasmine. He’ll surprise you.” 

“Well, I’d like to see you pop and lock, old man,” she teased, and Bucky just rolled his eyes. 

“Mabye later,” Bucky answered, flopping back down spread out on the couch. “Put your things away and we’ll order pizza!” 

“Yeah, okay. And I vote for not-beige, too,” Jasmine called out as she snagged her bags to drag them into her room. 

“Only residents get a vote. Gotta move in first, and then we’ll see,” Steve countered with a laugh. Jack just grinned at him, hitched his backpack strap higher on his shoulder, and went into the room just as Jasmine burst out of hers again. 

“Is that TV just for me to watch? And the blu-ray player? And the laptop? And the IPod?” 

“Yes. Yes. Yes. And yes,” Steve agreed. “Does that pass inspection?” 

She looked at him and grinned with pure delight. “Oh yeah,” she told him, her eyes dancing. 

Jack looked hesitantly toward his room, hooking his thumb over his shoulder but not saying anything. 

“Everything she said. Plus we have DISH Network. DVD collection’s in the library. And there’s a StarkPad in the drawer of each of your desks.” 

“Wait, no phone?” Jasmine asked suddenly. 

“Pushing it!” Bucky caroled from his spot on the couch, lifting his arm to shoo them away. Jasmine disappeared into her room, giggling, while Jack chuckled and ducked into his. The doors clicked softly shut, and Steve looked over to where Bucky lay and smiled adoringly at him. Bucky looked back equally sappy, and blew him a kiss. 

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter isn't as long as originally planned, but I did want to get this posted tonight. Hopefully I'll finish the rest of what I'd planned for this chapter tomorrow. 
> 
> I hope you're still enjoying Steve and Bucky's adventures in fatherhood, and that you'll stick with me! Please leave comments and kudos, and please do check out the stories I've linked to!


	5. Whatever Gets You Through the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The family unit of Rogers, Barnes, and two kids in need of a family starts to form, as Jasmine and Jack spend the weekend with Steve and Bucky, and the boys learn more about what it is to be a teenager in the 21st century.
> 
> And yeah, the rating on the story did just go up, because, you know, Bucky. He insisted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a little smut, for a good cause. Because of course, Steve and Bucky have a healthy sex life, and they're not going to give that up to be parents. So they have to figure out the limits and parameters to ensure privacy while keeping an ear out for the kids. Really, that's the reason for the smut, I promise you. :)

Dinner was pizza, with each of them ordering their favorites – sausage and mushroom for Steve, pepperoni and sweet peppers for Jack, Hawaiian for Jasmine, and plain with extra cheese for Bucky, because pineapple just don’t belong on a pizza.

They chatted lightly during the meal, Steve asking about whatever homework the kids might have, Jasmine asking when she’d get to meet Pepper Potts, and Jack inquiring about seeing Tony Stark’s lab.

“So what is it you do when you’re not being Captain America?” Jasmine asked around a mouthful of pineapple and ham pizza.

“He’s never not Captain America,” Bucky answered, taking a bite off his slice and drawing it away so the cheese extruded in a long, heavy string. He grinned around the pizza.

“Not true. I’ve got downtime right now, in honor of our guests,” Steve complained, picking a slice of sausage off his pizza and popping it in his mouth. “And if you two decide to stay with us permanently, I’ll be on family leave for a coupla months.”

“ _Months_ ,” Bucky repeated, eyes wide. “Glory be! You get a coupla months off from savin’ the world. Wowza.”

Steve kicked Bucky none too gently under the table, grimacing. When Bucky complained with an, “Ow!” the grimace morphed into a snarky grin and an evil chuckle. 

“Geeze, you’re as bad as Jack!” Jasmine observed, giggling.

“I’ll take that as a compliment!” Jack crowed, shoving half a slice of pizza in his mouth; a couple of pieces of pepperoni tried to make a run for it, but he tucked those in the corner of his mouth with an expert index finger.

“No, I’m just sayin’ you should have a coupla lifetimes off for savin’ the world. Twice.”

“Actually I think it was three times,” Steve answered thoughtfully, then his features crumpled into another affectionate grin.

“No, it’s more like five and a half,” Jack corrected.

“Five and a half,” Steve repeated, eyebrows shooting up.

“Yeah. Hydra, Chitauri, Hydra again, Ultron, that space thing, and the mannequin army,” Jack counted off, continuing to devour his pizza.

“That’s six times,” Jasmine pointed out archly.

“That mannequin army was really creepy,” Bucky shuddered.

“Yeah, that was worse than Ultron,” Steve agreed with a scowl, running a finger around his shirt collar. “So how do you get five and a half?”

“Don’t get full points for Hydra either time ‘cos it took two tries,” Jack said simply, and tossed a sweet pepper in the air and caught it in his mouth.

Steve and Bucky looked at each other for a moment. The oversight in destroying Hydra the first time around had led to 70 years of hellish servitude for Bucky, the collapse of SHIELD and the destabilization of security around the globe. Not to mention the Cold War, numerous other wars around the globe, a lot of people dead or discredited, and generations of suffering.

And the kid distilled the whole thing down to less than a point.

They burst out laughing, deep in the gut belly laughs, and they didn’t stop laughing for a long time. By the time they got themselves under control, both of them had tears running down their facing and Steve had started hiccupping from laughing too much.

“What’d I say?” Jack demanded, eyes wide as he looked from one to the other.

“Y’got a helluva perspective, kid,” Bucky chuckled, clapping Jack on the back. “I think I’ll keep ya!”

Jack’s face lit with a smile so wide and beautiful, Steve simply stared for a moment. He reached out and grabbed Jack and Jasmine by the hands and smiled at them. “You know we’re really happy to have you here. I know you’ve had a rough time of it, and we can never take the place of your parents. But I hope you’ll find it in you to become part of our family.”

Steve was encouraged that neither of them pulled their hands away, and both gave him a subtle, answering pressure. He glanced over at Bucky, who was watching them all with a fond, almost teary expression. “Sap,” Steve said softly.

“Not as big as you,” Bucky mouthed back at him.

Jack and Jasmine looked at each other and shrugged. “I still vote for not-beige,” Jasmine announced, and went back to her pizza.

&&&

“Mmmm, I forget sometimes how good this feels,” Steve murmured against Bucky’s lips, pressing his forehead against Bucky’s. They were stretched out full, Steve laying on top of Bucky, Steve’s leg pressed between Bucky’s, and cocks stroking long and slow against each other. Their hands roamed tenderly, questingly, dancing over sweat-slicked skin, pausing to probe and press into tightened muscle.

Bucky sighed softly. “Yeah. But don’t get any ideas – once we have Jarvis sort out soundproofing so the kids can’t hear us, but we can hear them, I fully intend to fuck you senseless with maximum moanage.”

Steve nipped at Bucky’s chin and chuckled. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t,” he said, his breath hot puffs against Bucky’s neck. Bucky turned and crushed their lips together, glazing Steve’s lips with his tongue. Steve opened his mouth to suck on that tongue, and suddenly their tongues were dueling each other for control of the kiss. Open-mouthed, wet and messy, they kissed for long moments, their gentle thrusts picking up speed and power, groans of pleasure swallowed in the hunger of their kisses. Breathy moans and the slick slide of flesh on flesh, the slap of balls on balls built an accompaniment to their rising passion. Bucky’s hands kneaded the muscles of Steve’s back as his pelvis pistoned into his, fingers gliding over muscle and smoothing over skin until they found purchase on the perfect swell of Steve’s ass, and Bucky’s fingers dug into the cheeks and pressed him deeper, harder, _more_.

Steve’s hands were stroking up and down Bucky’s sides, sliding in between them to twist at Bucky’s nipples, ghosting up his chest onto his shoulders and up his neck into Bucky’s hair, where his fingers wound into the strands to stroke and tug and anchor. Steve’s hands bracketed Bucky’s face and held it as he kissed his lover deeply.

They’d hardly needed any lube, their dicks had been dribbling pre-cum before they’d even freed them from their pants. The sensation of hot, hard cocks rubbing against each other just made those cocks drool more, painting their abs with a steady stream of sticky lubrication. Finally, Bucky let go of Steve’s ass and wedged his hands between them, lacing the fingers together around their cocks to form a double fist, flesh and metal, that they both thrust up into in synchrony. The added pressure, the tight ring of fingers, the contrast of warm flesh and cold metal fueled their pleasure, as their kisses grew sloppier and more desperate. Their pleasured pants grew to soft moans, and threatened to escalate into groans and more. Bucky’s hands started pulsing around their dicks, tightening and loosening, and that sent Steve over the edge, clawing out a spurting rope of cum that surged over Bucky’s hands and splattered between them in waves. As the hot semen hit his abdomen, Bucky came too, grunting with the sensation as his dick twitched and shot. They each thrust with dwindling energy for a few moments more, riding their orgasms down to the quiet hum of after buzz, and the pleasure of simply being in each other’s arms.

“Fuck, I love you,” Bucky whispered against Steve’s ear, panting, pulling his hands away from their softening cocks and locking his arms around Steve’s back in a tight embrace.

“Did you just smear your cum-hands all over my back?” Steve chuckled breathlessly into Bucky’s shoulder, nosing the scent glands and drawing Bucky’s scent in deeply.

“What if I did?” Bucky asked with a breathy giggle, returning the favor and nuzzling into Steve’s neck, rubbing his face in his scent.

“Geeze, Buck – that’s gonna itch,” Steve complained, lifting his head to look directly into Bucky’s sleepy eyes. “Bad enough it’s all over our fronts –“

Bucky stretched his neck to kiss under Steve’s chin. “Fine, let’s shower. Mmm, let’s see how much we can do in there without making any noise …”

&&&

As it turned out, there was quite a lot they could do in the shower without sound rising above the decibel level they asked Jarvis to monitor for. They were just coming out of the bathroom attached to their master bedroom, toweled off and dressed in t-shirts and soft sleep pants, when they first heard the sound of whimpering. Steve held a hand out and rested it on Bucky’s chest as he paused to listen.

“Jasmine,” Bucky said softly. “Maybe just a regular nightmare.”

“Yeah, maybe. Let’s just listen a minute, okay?” Steve suggested warily, still in the same position, senses stretching.

Bucky’s hand came to rest on Steve’s hip, and he slid the other hand around Steve’s waist, dropping his chin to Steve’s shoulder. Steve smiled and leaned his face against Bucky’s cheek, allowed himself to relax back against Bucky’s chest as Bucky’s arm tightened affectionately around his waist. They stood there for several minutes, comfortable in each other’s space, listening.

Then Bucky stiffened, standing straighter and lifting his face, sniffing.

“I smell it too,” Steve whispered. “Stronger than before.”

“Much. He’s just about there.”

They didn’t even realize that they had moved through the bedroom and out into the hallway linking the three bedrooms. They were practically standing in front of the door to Jasmine’s bedroom when she let out a scream that sounded like she was clawing her way out of hell. From the room next door came a series of shouts of “no!” 

Steve and Bucky barely glanced at each other, pausing only to graze their lips against each other briefly before Bucky said, “We got this. I’ll take Jack.”

“I’ve got Jasmine. See you on the other side.”

&&&

Despite what he’d said to Bucky, Steve felt out of his element and stood awkwardly at the door, his hand poised hesitantly over the doorknob. What was the protocol here? He wasn’t a guardian or Jasmine’s legal parent. But the whimpering on the other side of the door, the hiccupping breaths, she was a child in pain. He couldn’t let her suffer alone. His hand gripped the doorknob resolutely and turned.

Jasmine was thrashing the sheets of her bed, head rolling back and forth as her whimpers ratcheted up in intensity. As she drew up in a fetal position, he was struck at just how small she was, how vulnerable. How utterly adorable in her pink Hello Kitty footy pajamas. Pink, she likes pink, he thought incongruously, remembering all the silly pink stuff they’d bought for her and returned at Pepper’s instruction. She let out another cry, fists bunched up at her sides as she twisted and flailed again. His gut flipped, and he felt himself crossing the space and dropping to his knees by the bed, reaching out a steadying hand to grasp her shoulder.

“Shhh,” he soothed, “Jasmine, baby, it’s okay,” he whispered softly. She curled toward his voice, toward his warmth. ”Jasmine?” he prompted quietly, his big hand rubbing her shoulder blade gently, comfortingly. 

Her face was scrunched up in tension from whatever was happening in her dream, and Steve touched her forehead carefully, gingerly, to smooth away lines etching there. Jasmine’s eyes flew open, a sharp gasp wrenched from her mouth as she jerked away from him. He lifted his hands away from her and held them up where she could see them. 

“Jasmine, honey, are you okay?” he asked her gently, pouring every ounce of care and affection he could into that simple question.

“Where …?”

“You’re here, with me and Bucky, at the Tower. You’ve had a nightmare. You cried out. I came in to check on you – you’re safe here, baby. You’re safe.”

She stared at him a moment, eyes wide and frightened, and he was worried that he was contributing to that fear. He was little more than a stranger, a big guy kneeling beside the bed of a small girl. He wanted to be more, wanted to be her father, wanted to protect her from all that was bad and hurtful and small about the world. But to do that, he needed her trust. Needed her to understand that he posed no threat.

With a wounded sound, she launched herself into his arms, flung her arms around his neck and held on tightly, and he gathered her up in his arms, shifting from his knees to slide a hip onto her bed so she’d be more comfortably situated, and he could wrap his arms around her protectively, rest his chin atop the crown of her head, and trace soothing circles on her back with his hands that felt so massive in relation to her tiny, tiny form. He felt her shuffle on the bed and curl around him, holding on as sobs shuddered through her small body.

“It’s okay. Nothing can hurt you. You’re okay,” he told her over and over, letting her cry her fill, letting her ride the wave of emotion until she felt silent, exhausted and shaking.

“’M’sorry,” she muttered against his shoulder where she’d soaked his t-shirt with tears and snot and drool, and Steve figured that he must really be cut out to be a parent because he’d never been happier to act as someone’s snotrag before. Well, maybe except for when Bucky was in recovery, and he regularly abused Steve’s shirts in similar fashion.

“Sorry for what, baby? Having a nightmare? Heck, that just makes you perfect for this family.”

She lifted her head up and dragged the back of one hand under nose, smearing snot all over it, while the other hand scrubbed at her teary eyes. “So embarrassed to have a nightmare first night in your house.”

He chuckled at that. “Jazz, Buck and I can’t get through a single week without one of us having a nightmare. It’s just part of who we are now. So you really do fit right in. There’s never any reason to be embarrassed, I promise you. D’you wanna talk about it?”

She stared at him in silence for a moment before shifting so that she could snuggle against him and wrap her arms around his waist. “Jack.”

“What about Jack?” he asked gently.

“Jack’s different.”

Oh. So Jasmine knew. “You mean Jack’s an omega.”

She jerked away from him, her eyes wide and frightened. “You know? Is that why we’re here? Is that why you want to adopt us? Because of Jack? Are you gonna give him to the Pack?”

“I don’t anything about this Pack, but I sure as heck ain’t givin’ my kid to anyone. Buck and I want to adopt you both because we want a family, and you need one. And we know what it’s like to be orphans, to lose everything, everyone. We want to make sure you don’t have to live like that.”

“So you didn’t pick us because of Jack being … what he is?”

“Nope. Ms. Elliott, now, she thought we’d be a perfect match because of it, and I can’t say it wasn’t a factor. But we wanted you before we ever knew.” He bent down to kiss the top of her head, and his left hand gently stroked up and down her left shoulder and arm where it went around his torso. “But this Pack thing – it’s really got you spooked.”

“They take omegas like Jack. Just take ‘em. Two kids in our old school disappeared and nobody ever heard from ‘em again. There are stories, horrible stories, about what they do to omega kids. I may give him shit, but he’s my brother. He’s all I have left. He’s all I have ‘cos Mom and Dad are dead, they were shot – I never saw, but I can see Jack, I can see his eyes when he remembers, and I can’t lose him, too …”

“You have us, now. Buck and me. And tomorrow, or rather later today, you’ll get to meet Pepper. And Tony. We want to be your family. We want you for you, not because of Jack’s situation. And trust me when I say, anyone out to hurt you or Jack will have to go through me and Bucky – and probably the rest of the Avengers – to get to you.”

“They won’t come for me. I’m not like Jack. They wouldn’t be interested in me. They’d take him from me.”

“No. They won’t,” Steve told her with such conviction, a conviction he felt deep in the core of his being, that she looked up at him, startled. And she smiled. And Steve melted into the floor at the sight of that young girl’s smile. In that moment, he swore he’d do anything to keep that smile on her face as long and as much as possible. In that moment, he understood what fatherhood could mean to him, and he looked forward to a future filled with children, to a future full of wanting to inspire those smiles. He smiled back. “You have Captain America’s word on that,” he whispered, bopping her on the nose with his free hand. Her smile widened.

“Now, since you’re awake and I’m awake, and I’m kinda thirsty – how about some hot chocolate?”

“Real stuff or stuff from a packet?” she asked, eyes narrowed.

“Real stuff,” Steve replied, his voice affronted. “Only the best for our Jazz.”

“Jazz. I like that. And I like little marshmallows, too.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

&&&

While Steve was dealing with Jasmine’s nightmares, Bucky had entered the awkward world of dealing with an adolescent omega’s impending first heat. He remembered his own – skin too tight and insides too hot, and feeling twitchy and restless and what he later recognized as way too horny for his own good. Pretty much being a hormonal teenaged boy, but on steroids. He’d been lucky that Steve had presented as an alpha, that he and Steve had already hesitantly kissed a few times, had awkwardly touched each other, comparing relative body parts, guessing how things might fit together, if … If. Then when. Not at first, but eventually. He’d been lucky it was Steve. He’d always been lucky it was Steve.

But he’d learned from other omegas that the first heat could be difficult and frightening if you didn’t have someone to help you through, didn’t have someone who could help you ease the symptoms of arousal and need. Didn’t have someone to be a friend, a companion, through the worst of the head-muddling wash of hormones that was heat.

When he opened the door to Jack’s room, he was hit by the intense scent of Jack’s pheromones, a heady mix of cookies and milk and something hot, like wires heating. Jack was still asleep, but he was moving restlessly under the covers, groaning in discomfort.

Bucky estimated his heat would start in earnest in about a week. They had a week to put together a plan of action to make sure that Jack’s first heat was as smooth and uncomplicated as possible.

That was something he could do.

Having the sex talk with a confused teenager? That he wasn’t so sure about.

Yeah, but if he was gonna be a Dad, awkward conversations were part of the job description. Heck, that pretty much _was_ the job description, wasn’t it?

“Jack?” he called softly. Jack stirred. “Jack, wake up, kid,” Bucky tried again, putting a little more volume behind it.

“Mnmfgn, huh?” Jack muttered, jerking awake blearily.

“It’s okay, Jack, I just noticed you were having kind of a hard time. Figured you could use a break,” Bucky said soothingly, hooking his foot under the desk chair and hauling it over toward the bed. He dropped into the chair and gave Jack his best I’m-here-for-you-pal grin.

Jack pulled himself up to rest against the headboard, and fisted his eyes with a groan. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake anyone,” he muttered self-consciously.

“Wasn’t asleep yet. But I think we need to talk about what’s happenin’ with you, buddy.”

“Ugh. Don’t wanna. Don’t wanna deal with it,” Jack said, working his mouth like he’d gotten the taste of something foul. “Geeze, how come your mouth gets so funky when you sleep?”

“Brush your teeth before you went to sleep?” Jack shook his head. “Try that next time. Helps.” Jack nodded as he rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “So. What’s happening?”

“I guess you know, huh? That I’m like you?”

“Hey, nobody’s like me, kid. I’m f – uh, fully unique,” he corrected himself with a grin.

“You know what I mean. I don’t want this. I like _girls_. I want to build robots and be a geek and take over the world with my engineering brilliance,” he told Bucky earnestly, sighing deeply as he pulled his covers over his head.

“So, you wanna be Tony Stark. Part’s taken, but who knows, mebbe he needs an understudy.”

Jack whipped the covers back again, looking critically at Bucky. “Don’t joke about that. He’s totally my hero. What’s _he_ gonna think about this?”

“First of all, nobody’s business but yours. Second, I think he can help us. I get it you like girls – you don’t want some alpha dude up in your grill – or in your privates. Your choice, always your choice. But the heat’s gonna come, and we need to be ready for it. Got some ideas. There are ways to deal with the, um, feelings. Ways that you don’t need anybody’s help with. And there are ways to mask the scent. Easy things to do that won’t change your body chemistry or, um, or hurt you in any way.”

“Isn’t there something I can do to just shut it down? This isn’t what I want to be. I just wanna be a regular guy.”

“You _are_ a regular guy. You just got a little something extra to deal with every three months or so.”

“Yeah, but I don’t _want_ it. Isn’t there like a surgical solution?”

“I don’t know about that. Maybe. But you’re 15 years old, Jack – you don’t want to do anything permanent, not yet. Y’know, even straight men like a little,” and now Bucky was embarrassed – how much did the kid already know about sex? How much was too much for a 15 year old kid? Ugh. Maybe he didn’t have this. So he plunged on anyway. “Some straight guys like a little rear action. Some women like to give it. So the fact that you’ve got some extra qualities there doesn’t have to be anything more than extra ways to feel good. Doesn’t make you gay or bisexual or anything other than what you want to be.”

“Ick. And okay.”

“Yeah. Look, it’s awkward. Growin’ up is awkward. Havin’ hair show up in unexpected places, and your voice suddenly not be your own. Gettin’ wood when you seriously don’t expect it, and your skin goes nuts and your stomach does backflips when you see someone you like and you just can’t get a word out – bein’ a teenager is all kinds of awkward. And everyone goes through it. Thing is, you don’t have to go through it alone.”

“Thanks. So you’re not gonna suggest that _your_ alpha, Steve, does anything –“

“No. No way. He’s mine, I don’t share. And besides, you guys decide to take us on, he’s legally gonna be your dad, or one of ‘em. So, no, that’s … icky,” he said, mimicking Jack’s word.

“Okay. And you’re not gonna turn me over to the Pack, right?”

“Got that right, bud. No packs, no bullshit. So, tomorrow, while you’re hanging out with your idol, I’m gonna talk to Dr. Banner about some herbs that can naturally inhibit your scent – erase your heat signature entirely. And I’m gonna organize the techniques you can use to manage the symptoms, and when your heat starts for real, we’ll talk it through. You’ll be fine,” he smiled encouragingly at Jack, and Jack smiled back, tentatively. Bucky was struck with a thought that saddened him, but he went with it anyway. “Even if you don’t choose us, I’ll help you with this, Jack.” 

“Is that why you want to adopt us, though? Because of what I am? Because I’m like you?”

“Nah. Miss Elliott told us about you and your folks, and we thought you’d be perfect for us. We both know what it’s like to lose everything.” Jack nodded sadly, settling back into his bed and arranging his covers. He rolled over and watched Bucky’s face, drawing his hands up to cross his wrists right under his chin. Bucky was struck at how small and frightened he looked, and he smiled gently at him, reaching out to ruffle his hair. Jack smiled at that. 

“Steve and I met in the orphanage. He never knew his Dad, but his Mom was his whole life. She was a nurse, worked the TB ward. Then she got it. He was half the size of anyone else his age, and suddenly, he was completely alone. No other relatives. Me, I’d lost both my parents a few months back in a car accident, and my sisters had been adopted right away. So I was all alone, too. When he came into the orphanage, he was this little broken thing, he couldn’t even look anyone in the eye. But when one of the bigger kids started pickin’ on a little kid, he just burst into flame, I swear. Couldn’t land a hit worth shit, but he had heart. He had mine,” he added, nodding. “We were best friends before we ever started to develop into what we’d become. Everyone swore I’d be the alpha and Steve would be my omega. Didn’t matter how it turned out, we were best friends for life. There wasn’t anything that we couldn’t face together.”

“I don’t really have any friends. When my folks … when that happened, and we went into the system, I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to any of my old friends. And then we ended up with the Emersons, and that put us in a different school.”

“So tell me what you’re lookin’ for in a school, and we’ll see if we can find you the perfect fit. Findin’ friends is a lot easier when you’re surrounded by kids who share your interests, right?”

So Jack nestled down into the bed and talked about his hopes and dreams, of how he loved science and wanted to build things that helped people, and how he admired Tony Stark’s daring and brilliance, and Bucky found the sound of his voice, whispering about the things that excited him, to be soothing and comforting and scary all at the same time. And then finally the voice died away, replaced by a gentle snore. 

With a smile, Bucky eased himself out of the chair and got up, gently smoothing the hair back from Jack’s forehead before he let himself back out.

&&&

Bucky came out of Jack’s room and was surprised to see Steve sitting on the couch. Steve held up his palm in a “stop” signal, and Bucky tiptoed over to stand right behind where Steve was on the couch. He looked down and saw Jasmine curled up on her side, looking like a little kid in her pink footy pajamas, her head pillowed in Steve’s lap. Steve looked up at him with the dopiest expression he’d ever seen, and pressed his finger against his lips, warning, “Shhh.”

Bucky couldn’t help but smile. Fatherhood became Steve. In fact, it was pretty fucking hot. 

“How’s Jack?” Steve asked softly, bringing his mug of what smelled like hot chocolate to his lips. Bucky reached for the mug and stole it off Steve, inhaling deeply. It was the good stuff, made from real chocolate, not that packet stuff, and not that powdered cocoa either. Real chocolate, melted in the double boiler – or microwave – and mixed with milk by hand. He thought he could smell just a hint of cinnamon in there, too. He grinned at Steve as he sipped it, shifting to rest his buttcheek on the back of the couch while curling his arm loosely around Steve’s shoulders.

“Hey, that’s mine! There’s more in the saucepan on the stove –“

“Great, you can go get yourself more. Jack’s fine. He snores. Gonna talk with Banner tomorrow about putting together an herbal prep to help with the scent. And I have some ideas for a knotting vibrator to help with the heat symptoms.”

“You’re talking about designing a special _vibrator_ for our son?”

“I’m talking about making him something that will help him get through the worst of it without having to rely on anyone else. He’ll get over the initial embarrassment, trust me. So will you. And he’s not our son yet, not until they agree to the adoption.” He looked down at Jasmine, sleeping sounding against Steve’s thigh. “She okay?”

“Yeah. This … Pack … thing has her worried.”

“Him, too. We gotta find out more about it. They’re safe when they’re with us, but we can’t protect them 24/7 – they’re gonna leave the Tower at some point. Like Monday.”

“Yeah.”

Bucky handed the mug back to Steve, and Steve glanced in it to see it was drained dry. Buck grinned at him, licking his lips ostentatiously. “Yum,” Bucky said, waggling his eyebrows.

“You’ve got pancake duty in the morning. Since I made the hot chocolate. That you drank.”

Bucky huffed, and looked put upon for a moment, but then he looked down at Jasmine again, and his throat tightened. He asked seriously, “We can do this right? Be parents? The whole PTA thing, and trip chaperones. Deal with them dating and wantin’ a car and oh, fuck, Stevie, are we in over our heads already?”

“Language, Buck,” Steve said, nodding toward Jasmine’s head pillowed against his thigh. “And yeah. ‘Cos we’re gonna do it together. Right?” Steve reached up for Bucky’s hand, threaded his fingers with Buck’s, and brought the hand to his lips, pressing chaste kisses on each knuckle. “You’re gonna make a great dad, Buck. The best.” 

Bucky dipped down and caught Steve’s chin in the curve of his hand and touched his lips to Steve’s. “Second only to you, babe. Now what say we get this one in her own bed?” He looked at her cute little pink pajamas. “Pink, huh? And guess what? Jack’s a Mets fan. Pink and baseball. We shoulda followed our own instincts – we woulda scored. And speakin’ of scoring … got some ideas, babe. Think we should try ‘em out after we get her tucked in.”

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stick with me! I might be taking a few days off from this story to tackle the next chapter of "On the Air." 
> 
> Please leave comments and tell me how you feel about the story so far! I so appreciate the hits and kudos and I see there are bookmarks and subscriptions. But the comments, man, the comments give me life!


	6. I Will Always Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonding over pancakes, Steve and Bucky's new little family begins to take shape.

**Chapter 6: I Will Always Love You**

Jasmine was the first to rise, scuffing her way from her room to the kitchen in her fuzzy slippers and fuzzier bathrobe over her pajamas, lured by the scent of something wonderful cooking. Jack’s door cracked open a few minutes later, and he stumbled forward, nose held high as he followed the same delicious odors.

“Shit, better keep these two away from any gingerbread houses in the forest,” Bucky commented as Jack stumbled into the kitchen and dropped into the chair by Jasmine, still sniffing and smiling. He was showered and dressed, as was Steve, and both of them looked disgustingly chipper for, well, morning. Steve grinned and went to the refrigerator to pull out jugs of milk and orange juice. He held them up to the teens and let them pick what they want, then poured out glasses for each of them before putting the jugs back in the fridge.

“What’s for breakfast?” Jack asked around a yawn.

“My special pancakes – old family recipe. And since you’re up, I can turn up the music!” he announced, brandishing his spatula in one hand while he spun the volume control on the iPod dock with the other. As the music grew louder, Bucky started swaying to the beat, a sinuous movement that involved his whole body – shoulders moving, head bopping, pelvis swaying, feet tapping. He hummed under his breath as he flipped the pancakes on the griddle, one at a time, getting bolder with each flip until the last one was tossed several feet in the air, coming to rest on the flat of the spatula before he slid it back on the griddle.

Steve was cutting up fresh fruit into bowls, tapping his feet and shaking his ass as he worked, and when he brought the fruit over to the table, Bucky caught him with his arm around Steve’s waist, and they danced a few steps together – Bucky smooth and polished, Steve a little awkward and stiff. And then Bucky pulled him close and kissed him, slow and sweet, to a chorus of “Ew!” from the kids.

Steve broke off and grinned at them again. “Get used to it. We run an affectionate household,” he told them, setting the bowls of fruit down on the table. Just then, the microwave dinged, and he trotted back to pull out the maple syrup, warmed to perfection to bring out the smoky sweet flavor of the syrup. He resumed his swaying to the music, hip-checking Bucky as he passed by with butter, a shaker of confectioner’s sugar, and a can of whipped cream. “Don’t know what you like on your pancakes – are we missing anything?”

“Pancakes, as the Captain ordered,” Bucky announced, dropping a heaping plate of pancakes on the table. “These are chocolate chip. Got plain and blueberry on the griddle. Any special requests?”

The kids look over the feast, and shake their heads in unison, smiles threatening to burst across their young features. “Okay then. Dig in,” Steve ordered, nodding toward the food. Both kids transfered pancakes to their plates, and elbowed each other for command of the butter and syrup. Before long, they were making appreciative noises as they wolfed down Bucky’s pancakes.

“See, it’s perfect,” Steve said to Bucky as he slid by to check on the progress of coffee, brushing his lips across the nape of Bucky’s neck.

“It’s because I make perfect pancakes. I am the perfect pancake maker. You only love me for my pancakes,” he pouted, turning back to the stove and hunching over his griddle. 

Steve came up behind him and circled his waist with his arms, nuzzling into his hair, lips grazing over his earlobe. “I love you for your pancakes and your big heart, and your even bigger –“

“Hey! Children present!” Jasmine complained around a mouthful of pancake.

“Yeah, children present, Rogers. Watch your mouth!” Bucky told him, giggling as he collected the remaining pancakes and plated them. 

“I was just gonna say ‘capacity to love’,” Steve said with a bright smile. “Get your minds out of the gutter.”

The chocolate chip pancakes were gone already. “Didn’t think to save any for us, huh?” Bucky said pointedly as he put the platters on the table.

“Didn’t know we were supposed to,” Jack answered guiltily.

“Ah, you weren’t. Just surprised by your appetites is all. Don’t they feed you?”

“Growing boy,” Jack said simply, as though that answered everything. It probably did.

“I just like chocolate chip pancakes. Are you gonna make pancakes every day?”

“Nope. Just on weekends. Pancakes should be special. We usually have pancakes on Saturday, and omelets on Sunday, unless we go out. There’s a couple of decent diners we like.”

“And there’s an all you can eat Sunday brunch buffet that we like. We always pay double when we go there. We can eat a heck of a lot,” Steve announced, coming over with two mugs of coffee. He handed one off to Bucky, who accepted it with a kiss, and then the two men seated themselves and started in on their own breakfasts. The kids took a couple more pancakes from the new platters, and Steve and Bucky exchanged amused glances. “Think you’re gonna fit in just fine. We may have to pay for two meals each for you, too.”

“This is a one-time deal,” Jasmine announced, blotting her sticky lips on a napkin. “I can’t eat like this all the time. I’ll be big as a house if I do!”

“I might stick with it – carbs are good for energy, and I’d like to try out for track in the spring. That is, I can do that, right? Go out for sports? Or does me being a, you know, prevent that?” Jack asked nervously.

“Nah. I played baseball, varsity football. Being omega doesn’t have to stop you from doing _anything_ ,” Bucky explained.

“Hmm-mmm,” Jack agreed, chewing thoughtfully, although his eyebrow arched to indicate he was doubtful.

“Just like being a girl doesn’t make you less. Right, Jazz?”

Jasmine agreed around her third helping of pancakes. “These are good with that sugar stuff,” she said then gulped it down.

“I run nearly every morning. You’re welcome to join me, help you get in shape,” Steve offered.

“So, you run? Like you don’t have to, right? That serum thingie keeps you healthy no matter what, right?” Jasmine asked, her mouth full of fruit this time.

“Didn’t anyone teach you not to talk with your mouth full?” Bucky asked.

“Mmm, yeah. Mouth, full, talking? Miss Jasmine,” Steve admonished gently.

“Didn’t know this was a formal affair,” she countered.

“It’s not, but we do have a couple of friends who are hard of hearing or deaf. Do you have any idea how rude it is to talk with your mouth full when someone’s trying to read your lips?”

“Ugh!”

“Exactly. Get into good habits now – avoid humiliation later.” Bucky glanced from one to the other. “Or revenge.”

Steve chuckled. “And to answer your question, yes, I think the serum would take care of anything unhealthy. But the thing is, I don’t run because I have to, to keep in shape. I run because I can.”

“Because you can?” Jack echoed.

“Yeah. When I was younger and I was sickly so much of the time, I simply couldn’t run. My lungs couldn’t take it, the curvature of my spine made it painful. I tried, but I never made it far. So after my transformation, I take the chance to run whenever I can. It makes me feel good.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jack replied then.

“Yeah, okay, what?” Steve prompted him.

“Yeah I’ll go running with you. As long as I’m … well, you know.”

“Um?”

“You know, _here_.”

“Pretty sure you’re in the driver’s seat there, pal. We know we want you – you two have to make the decision whether _you_ want _us_.” 

“Feel like renegotiating pancakes every day?” Jack suggested, grinning.

“Where do you come from?” Jasmine asked suddenly.

“Brooklyn,” Steve and Bucky replied in unison around their own pancakes, and immediately grinned at each other. Steve reached for Bucky’s left hand and Bucky immediately slid the metal fingers to twine with Steve’s.

“No, where do _you_ come from? The alphas and omegas.”

“Huh,” Steve replies, sitting straighter, and scrubbing his face with his free hand. “Nobody really knows. There are stories about alphas and omegas as far back as the Bible. In Roman times. In fact, there are scholars who think that Romulus and Remus, the two ‘wolf cubs’ who were supposed to have founded Rome, were in fact an alpha/omega bonded pair.”

Bucky picked up the thread and added, “There was a lot of rigmarole and bullshit about alphas, especially, and omegas to a lesser degree, back in the good old bad old days. All kinds of ritual and hierarchy and crap. Even the names are kinda crap, really. Omega wolves aren’t prized in wolf packs. We’re not lesser, we’re different. I’m betting at least one of the founding fathers was an omega, because they made those old world cults history when they signed the Declaration of Independence. And then the Constitution.”

“Good old bad old days?” Jack repeated doubtfully.

“Yeah,” Bucky replied. “Some European countries elevated alpha worship to practically a religion. Then again, those cultures tended to be patriarchies anyway. First-born son inherited everything, daughters were sold into alliance marriages, that sort of horseshit.”

“What about omegas?” Jasmine asked, darting a glance toward her brother, who leaned forward, hungry for information.

“They were breeding stock in many cases,” this statement made both teens wrinkle their noses in distaste, and Jasmine reached out her hand to take Jack’s. He smiled down at her fingers and curled his hand around hers. Bucky continued, “Slaves. Not everywhere, but enough that omegas in those countries were always trying to get away to freer cultures. Part of why so many omegas made the crossing to the New World – to get away from oppression, just like everyone else in the early days.”

“So the founding fathers freed the omegas, but not the black slaves,” Jasmine surmised, her head tilted to convey her underlying disapproval.

Bucky nodded. “That’s why I think at least one of them was omega. They never would have bothered if they weren’t personally affected, I think.”

Steve put down his fork and chewed thoughtfully before adding, “Although … the stories about those old cults – there was a lot of bloodshed. Stupid, violent stuff. Fights to the death for dominance. Really makes no sense when you think about it. And dueling was outlawed in the new country. Those kinds of traditions wouldn’t have been very healthy for a new country. That would be a political motivation, rather than a biological one.”

“Yeah,” Bucky shrugged. “Thing is, we just don’t know. The alpha and omega traits are genetic mutations, not a separate species. Like blue eyes, or left-hand dominance, vestigial tale … The alpha mutation is the commanding presence, high sperm motility. Male sex organs in female alphas. The omega mutation in males is the ability to become pregnant and carry to term. Male and female omegas have the heat, and the normally multiple birth pregnancies – some have called them ‘litters’. Both strains experience an intense awareness of each other if they bond. Mate, with some extra stuff thrown in,” he added off-handedly at their confused expressions. Steve’s hand slid across the table and closed over Bucky’s, earning him a sweet smile. “The betas, the strain that is what most people today are, don’t have those traits. And the betas have evolved as the most robust form because the alphas and omegas were practically wiped out by too many wars in the 20th century.”

“They – we – I aren’t, er, am not differentiated,” concluded Jasmine.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Bucky agreed, taking a swig of his coffee.

Steve paused, fork poised over his plate. “Dr. Erskine had some theories about the omega mutation. He posited that at some point in human evolution, the female population was dying off, so humans adapted by making some men capable of bearing children. Not everywhere, just certain parts of the world”

“So how come there are alpha women, then?”

“Nature is equal opportunity? An alpha woman is more than her sex organs, just as an omega is. An alpha woman is a commanding presence. Alpha women are leaders, commanders, heads of state. Role models. The world could certainly benefit from more of that, don’t you think? Women in charge?”

“Hell, yes!” Jasmine declared with a wide grin.

“Language, young lady,” Steve admonished with a gentle smile.

“You let _him_ swear!” she protested.

“Try stopping him,” Steve chuckled. “Been swearin’ like a sailor since he was old enough to wear long pants. And years of workin’ on the docks didn’t make him any better.”

“Do you like what you are?” Jack asked quietly, cutting across the rebuttal forming on Bucky’s lips. He didn’t lift his eyes up from where they are locked on his plate, pushing the last piece of pancake around in a lake of syrup and melted butter.

“Like it? I dunno, Stevie – do you like what you are?”

“Don’t know anything different,” Steve said simply.

“Yeah, that about says it,” Bucky agreed. “We’ve only ever been what we are. Biologically, and to each other. Well, except for the 70 years I was a broken slave for Hydra, but we don’t count that, any more than we count the time Stevie was locked in ice.”

“We really don’t have a point of comparison. Buck and I … it was considered wrong by any stretch of the imagination back in the ‘40s, but we’ve always known we belonged together. That was before we ever presented. It’s pure luck I presented alpha and Buck presented omega. It made … us … a little more socially acceptable. We could be more open about how we felt for each other, with a biological imperative. Coulda been the other way round, coulda both been beta, or whatever. But what we’ve always been is Steve and Bucky.”

“Bucky and Steve.”

“Doesn’t matter what order.”

“It’s alphabetical. Makes better sense.”

“Really don’t think it matters –“

“Plus, I’m older –“

“And vainer –“

“Is this what it’s gonna be like? Having you two for parents? Nobody’ll be able to tell who the kids are and who the parents are!”

That was enough to make both men blush and mutter apologies. Steve and Bucky both pushed their plates away, and Bucky looked at both teenagers seriously. “So you’re considering it? Letting us adopt you?”

“We could do worse, huh? But let’s see the rest of your … proposal,” Jasmine replied with a sly smile.

“Proposal?”

“Bring on the Stark and the Potts,” she elaborated.

“Yeah,” Jack agreed enthusiastically.

“I need to stop and see Banner, too,” Bucky announced, rising and collecting plates to put them in the sink to soak. “See if he can whip up some stuff that will help with your heat. It’s almost here.”

“How can you tell?” Jasmine asked curiously, popping one more piece of fruit in her mouth as she watched Steve and Bucky move in harmony in the little kitchen, scraping plates, putting them under the spray to rinse them off, cleaning up the griddle, and tucking supplies back in the refrigerator. They moved with the surety and ease of a couple who’d been together a very long time.

“I can smell it. That’s part of what we need to mask.”

“I still don’t understand why I can’t go on a suppressant. Or get surgically fixed.”

“Nope. Both will mess with your biology. You’re still developing – it’s not time for suppressants or body modification. Once you’re fully developed, those are definitely options open to you. But you do either of them too early, it can really mess with you. And suppressants … they mess with more than your biology. They screw up your head, too.”

“Did that happen to you?”

Bucky nodded, and Steve wound his arm around Bucky’s shoulders, crossing his chest and pulling him close. Steve nuzzled Bucky’s ear, leaning forward to kiss him on the temple.

“So, what do you do?”

“I had a vasectomy,” Steve answered simply.

“And my last heat was the first one without suppressants in my bloodstream. We stayed here the whole time, didn’t leave the apartment. It was intense.” Bucky turned his face so he and Steve could share a gentle kiss, then they broke apart to regard the kids again.

Steve had a dopey smile on his face and Jack and Jasmine just stared at him for a moment before Jasmine shuddered. “Omigod. You had heat sex. Here? On this table?” she jumped back like she’d been electrocuted. There was a serious vibe of “cooties.”

Steve and Bucky exchanged amused glances. “We are married, you know. We do have sex in our own home. And, we had a crime scene cleanup crew in to sterilize the place after my last heat. There’s no … organic matter … anywhere other than in our master suite. We made sure of that. So no need to worry.”

“Crime scene cleanup?”

“Black light checks for body fluids.”

“Ugh!”

“Yeah, you don’t ever want to take one of those to a motel, trust me …”

“Hey, Buck, maybe we should dial back the graphic –“

“Yeah, sorry. Look, this is us. Warts and all. We want you to be part of our family, but y’gotta know what you’re getting yourself in for, right?” Bucky slid his hand into Steve’s, and Steve looked at him in that sappy way that everyone eventually learned was just how Steve looked at Bucky. 

“So … Stark? Potts?”

“Get yourselves cleaned up, brush your teeth, and get dressed – then we’ll go up to visit the others. I know Pepper’s looking forward to meeting you both, but I can’t speak for Stark. He’s not a fan of children.”

“So, you’ll just have to charm him,” Steve added with a smile. “Now, off – the sooner you’re ready, the sooner we can leave.”

“Hey, Jarvis, is Mr. Stark in today?”

“Sir is in his third floor lab, sir. However, he has asked that all visitors refrain from stopping by – he is working with a new repulsor unit today, and it is potentially volatile,” Jarvis replied smoothly.

“That’s gonna take some getting used to,” Jasmine said, sliding off her chair to go get ready.

“I dunno – I really like it,” Jack said with a grin.

“You would. ‘Cos you’re a geek.”

The kids disappeared into their rooms, doors snicking shut behind them. Bucky leaned back against the counter and sipped at his coffee, looking after them fondly. He turned toward Steve, and his smile broadened as he tucked under Steve’s arm and snuggled close. He stretched up and planted a chaste kiss on Steve’s cheek. Steve blushed and ducked his head. “You can fuck me stupid and spew every kind of obscenity while your balls-deep up my ass, and you can still blush when I kiss you on the cheek? Shit, Rogers, you sure are a keeper.” He kissed Steve on the cheek again. “Hell, yeah,” he breathed with a sweet smile.

“Gonna have to watch that. Language. Gonna have to set a good example for the kids.”

“Best example we can set is filling our home with love. What we always wanted as kids, right? Not stuff, love.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, tightening his embrace around Bucky’s shoulders, pressing his lips to Bucky’s temple.

“Okay, so Stark’s out, at least for now. We’ll take Jasmine up to meet Pepper. Shopping will no doubt ensue – she’ll love it. Jack can come with me to see Banner. Banner has enough toys it’ll keep him happy until Stark’s free. You gonna come with?”

“Gonna do some research into this Pack thing. See what you can find out from Pepper, huh? I’ll see you later,” he added, curling his fingers into Bucky’s shirt and kissing him on the lips this time, soft and sweet.

“Just goin’ a coupla floors, big guy. You can come with, don’t have to stay back –“ Steve shook his head at Bucky’s invitation. The kids came out of their rooms then, one after another as though they’d orchestrated it.

“Potts, _now_?” Jasmine prompted hopefully. She was dressed to impress, clearly wearing her Sunday best skirt, top and blazer to meet the inimitable Pepper Potts. 

Jack was laid back in jeans and a Mets jersey, hands fisted in his pockets. “I’ve read some of Dr. Banner’s research – is it true he can transform?”

“Yeah. But you never want to get him angry, trust me on that,” Steve replied ruefully. “He’s a really good guy – one of the best.”

“Okay. Let’s get this show on the road. See ya later, punk,” Bucky said as he ushered the teens onto the elevator.

“Love ya, jerk,” Steve said softly to himself after they’d gone. Then he roused himself to go Google.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, some exposition to establish this A/B/O world. Next chapter is in the works, and Jack finally meets his idol, and the wheels start moving to make the arrangement for the kids permanent. 
> 
> Give me some comment love in the meantime (please!) - comments are always welcome, and your guesses and questions and comments make me think through details more, and make the story richer as we go!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky get closer to having a family, and discover that the Pack has always been closer than they thought.

With Buck and the kids out of the apartment, Steve padded over to his desk in the study and flipped the laptop open, settling in to see what he could find on the Internet. Contrary to what Tony Stark constantly teased him over, Steve was actually pretty comfortable with tech, and could navigate with ease. He just didn’t bother with all the social media stuff or games. Although, he kind of wondered if social media, especially photo sharing and stuff, might not be more appealing with a family. Then again, he didn’t want to expose his kids to unwanted scrutiny, either.

Damn, there were just so many things to think about in becoming parents. But he was confident that what they were doing was the right thing. Jack and Jazz were great kids, and they really did fit with him and Buck. He only hoped they came to the same conclusion. And if so, they were going to have to discuss just how much of the social apps and sites on the Internet to use, and how to do it safely. The last thing he wanted was for the kids to be in danger because of him or Buck.

That was a problem for another day. For now, the Pack.

Okay. Search terms. Half the battle of the Internet was figuring out the right search terms. So …

“New York City” Alpha Omega Pack

The Internet served up a plethora of options, and not surprisingly, there was a Wiki page on it. That was as good a place to start as any – he knew that Wikis could be notoriously unreliable, but it should point him to some genuine information, and at least help him winnow out some junk and maybe help him narrow his search better.

As Steve read the entry, his jaw fell open further and further. 

_No way._

&&&

Jack was surreptitiously curious about the public floor of Stark’s penthouse suite, darting glances, wide-eyed, at the floor-to-ceiling windows, the tasteful and uber-expensive furnishings, and of course watching for signs of Iron Man. But it was Jasmine who strutted onto the floor like she was born to it. Bucky knew she wasn’t alpha – he was pretty sure she would’ve mentioned it if she’d been sporting extra sex organs after the conversation they’d had earlier – but she sure knew how to work a room like she was. He was already half in love with these kids, and he felt a tightness in his chest at the idea that they might not choose to stay with him and Steve. He’d really like to watch them grow up, and he could picture Jasmine blossoming under Pepper’s tutelage. But he wasn’t about to use that as the carrot to convince the kids to accept him and Steve as their adoptive parents.

Pepper was sitting on the chaise longue section of the huge couch thing that dominated a big part of the floor, flipping through a magazine. She’d dressed down for the day, loose-fitting button down (big enough it was probably Stark’s) over a pair of denim capris, and flat shoes. Jasmine hauled up short, and glanced down at her outfit and nearly burst into tears. It was obvious she’d miscalculated and overdressed and then some.

But Pepper looked up at her and smiled in that gentle, aren’t-you-wonderful way of hers, and swung her legs down as she tossed aside her magazine. Bucky saw her eyes flick, taking in Jasmine’s outfit, and she made a little face. “Oh! I forgot we were going to go shopping – I am so underdressed for the shops we’re hitting today!”

Everyone was a little in love with Pepper Potts, and this was exactly why. Jasmine went from near panic attack to beaming like she was made of sunlight as Pepper held up a finger and told her to wait right there, she’d be back in a flash. She’d only trotted a few feet when she turned back. “I’m sorry, where are my manners? I’m Pepper Potts,” she introduced, walking sedately back to where Bucky stood with Jasmine and Jack. She took Jasmine’s hand in hers and smiled warmly. “Jasmine. Maybe you can help me pick out an outfit to coordinate with yours.” Jasmine nearly choked on air at that. Then Pepper turned her wattage on Jack and he seemed to melt into the floor a little. “Tony’s got something going with a repulsor or something, and the lab’s off limits right now. But we’ll be doing movie night tonight, so you can meet him then. I think we’re doing something Transformer-y tonight, but I could be wrong –I don’t always pay attention when it’s Tony’s turn to pick a movie.”

“That’s okay, we were going to go and pester Bruce for a while. You gonna be okay, Jazz?” he asked, touching the teenager gently on the shoulder.

“Oh, more than okay. I’m _good_ ,” Jasmine grinned up at him, instantly shedding her carefully crafted sophistication and letting the happy little girl shine through.

“Thanks, Pep,” Bucky said, leaning over and dropping a gentle kiss on her cheek.

“Well, if it earns me a kiss from Captain America’s main squeeze, it’s totally worth it. So, you’re gonna live with these guys, huh? Are they not the cutest thing you’ve ever seen? Totally sappy. They could do commercials for Hallmark, I swear,” Pepper commented as she led Jasmine off. Jasmine looked over her shoulder with an “oh my Gawd!” expression, and then followed Pepper happily toward her quarters and the chance to dress one of the world’s great CEOs for a day of shopping and chicanery.

“Okay, so the girl stuff is sorted out, let’s go get our geek on, huh?” Jack nodded enthusiastically. “You’re gonna love Bruce – he’s a great guy.”

“I have a feeling I’m gonna like everybody,” Jack agrees, grinning.

&&&

As they rode in the elevator to Banner’s lab, Jack rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Um, you said you wouldn’t end up staying here,” he said quietly. “How come?”

“Kind of a fishbowl, don’t you think? Everybody’s up in everybody else’s business. We were thinking it would be nice to have a real home, some grass, neighbors, PTA, barbeques, the whole magilla. Why? You really like this hunka steel and glass?”

“Always lived in New York. Well, Brooklyn. What am I gonna do with a buncha grass? That’s what parks’re for.”

Bucky looked at Jack for a long moment in silence, and then erupted into laughter. “My thoughts exactly! Steve’s got it in his head that you gotta have grass to raise a family. Picket fence and all that horseshit. Hell, we didn’t have much more’n a patch of dirt for our ball field, and any fences in the neighborhood were chain link that we were always scrabbling our way under. In fact, Steve was so little, he usually got stuck being the advance guard.”

“Y’know, if you really wanna be a father figure, y’might wanna keep some of this stuff to yourself – if I wasn’t an honor roll student, I might be takin’ notes on how to subvert parental guidance.”

Bucky’s mouth shut with an audible snap and he stared at Jack again, wide-eyed. Then he clapped the kid on the shoulder – Jack valiantly tried not to practically fall over, but Buck was a super soldier after all – he ended up having to help Jack right himself before he fell ass over teakettle on the floor. “Sorry. I like you – we’re gonna have some fun together, you’n me.”

“Omegas stickin’ together?”

“Nah. Kids from Brooklyn – we gotta stick together. Can’t trust them bums from Queens. Or Midtown.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

They rode the last few floors to Banner’s lab level in companionable silence, knocking shoulders and trying to make each other laugh. Again, Bucky’s chest constricted at the thought these kids might not choose them. It had to be both of them choosing Steve and him, they wouldn’t separate them. He thought they had a good chance, but it could still go wrong if they weren’t careful …

Banner was actually pleased to see them, and was eager to take a break in his work to sit and chat with Bucky and Jack for a few minutes. In fact, he had Jack take over some of the observations on his experiments, showing Jack how to transcribe data into his notebook. Bucky took the opportunity to pull Bruce aside then to discuss the materials he needed to pull together things to help Jack through his heat. Bucky explained what he needed, based on old recipes of his Gramma’s.

“Wow, James, you could make a fortune with this if it works. Pharma companies have been trying for years to come up with a safe alternative to suppressants.”

“You’re serious. People don’t know to do that? It was common knowledge among the folks from the old country. We all grew up knowing how to whip up a batch if we needed it. Y’know, sometimes you didn’t want to mask your heat signature. If you were in a courtin’ mood, that is,” he added, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Bruce clapped his hand over his eyes and groaned. “I never learn, do I? You always set me up, and I always fall for it.”

“Can’t help it if you’re a proper beta, Bruce. Time was, folks talked about this stuff. But with alphas and especially omegas dyin’ out, it ain’t open anymore.”

“No, and that hurts kids like Jack. I hope it all works out, James – you and Steve’ll make great parents.”

“Yeah, yeah we will. Kinda sorry none of our kids will be _ours_ , but hell, we were orphans, and we know what it’s like to want a family. Wait’ll you meet Jazz – pure beta, but she’s got the heart of an alpha. That girl is goin’ places!”

“With Pepper as her mentor, she’ll get there fast, too. Okay, I’ll put some of this together – I should be able to have a batch ready by this evening.”

“That’s great. Jack and Jazz go back to their foster home on Monday, and Jack’s first heat’ll hit sometime in the next few days. I want him to be ready. Next thing I need to organize for him is a knotting vibrator.”

“Okay, that’s too much information,” Bruce complained.

“What’s too much information? That I’m rich, brilliant and fucking good in bed? Shit, who’s the kid?” Tony Stark rapped out in rapid fire order.

Jack froze in place, hands hovering over the work he’d been doing for Bruce, and started to tremble. Bucky noticed the tremor and came over to throw a friendly arm around the boy’s shoulders and turn him around to introduce him to Tony. “Tony, this is Jack. Steve’n I are hoping to adopt Jack and his sister Jasmine.”

“That’s the teenaged girl Pepper took shopping? You know she’s gonna try to keep her. She’s been wanting a gal pal.”

“Jazz’ll love it,” Jack blurted excitedly. “Ms. Potts is her hero.”

“Yeah? She’s got good taste. What about you?”

“What about me? Sir.”

Tony’s eyebrow quirked up mischievously. “Who’s your hero?”

Buck tightened his arm draped around Jack’s shoulders, trying to will encouragement into the nervous boy’s frame. He nudged him with his hip and grinned down at him. Finally, Jack said shyly, “You are, Mr. Stark. You’re my hero.”

Tony shifted backward and really looked at Jack. “Science nerd, right?” Jack nodded. “Good choice. So, Captain America and the Winter Cupcake’s maybe-adopted son thinks I’m a hero, huh? Barnes, this one’s a keeper.”

“I know. Just need him and his sister to say the okay, and we’ll do just that.”

“So, you like science.” Jack nodded enthusiastically. “Robotics?” Now Jack’s head threatened to fly right off his shoulders, he was nodding so excitedly. “Cool. You’ll have to meet Dum-E and the gang. Repulsor’s cycling now, lab’s still a little … explody. Possibly. But later, you’ll come down, we’ll hang. Cool?” Jack nodded dumbly. A smile twitched at the corners of Tony’s mouth, and the expression he bestowed on Jack was decidedly fond.

“Oh, and tonight. Movie night. Transformers quadrilogy. In 3D. Gotta popcorn machine. We’ll order in pizza. No beer for you, though. All the Avengers’ll be there. Even Thor.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Jack reconfirmed, his eyes glazed as he spoke to his idol.

Bucky looked back and forth between them, and smirked. “So, Stark, got somethin’ I need to discuss with you. Gotta minute?”

&&&

“Yeah, they’ve had a lot of bad press, and a lot of it is earned as far as I can tell. Secretive bastards. There’s been talk in city hall about probes and shit, but nothing seems to go very far. Money and influence. And Howard’s notes indicate he had a few run-ins with them back in the day. You’re worried about the kid, huh?”

Bucky nodded. “The kids are scared shitless about this Pack thing, so I gotta find out more – what else can you tell me about them?”

“Well, you can probably tell me more – it’s an organization that’s been around since before your time. I don’t know if they’ve always been this cloak and daggery, but they’ve been around well over a hundred years.”

“We didn’t have anything called the Pack when I was a kid. I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about –“

“The Pack isn’t their official name. You probably know them by their official name. The Pack is a nickname they’ve picked up over the years because of the way they changed the alpha and omega communities. Right after the War, in fact.”

&&&

Jarvis extended an invitation to Steve to join Sergeant Barnes and Sir in Dr. Banner’s laboratory. Glancing at the information he’d been scribbling down about the Pack, he suspected Buck was picking up more anecdotal information from Tony, who had lived in New York off and on for most of his life. He wondered if Tony had gotten to the real bombshell yet.

Steve arrived in Banner’s lab a few minutes later, taking in the happy, whistling face of Jack doing science stuff with Bruce, and Tony and Bucky leaning together conspiratorially over in Banner office area. Buck jumped up as soon as Steve came through the door, and walked over to him nuzzling at his neck, putting his arms around Steve’s shoulders, and presenting his bond mark to Steve. Shit, whatever Bucky had learned had upset him, and he was seeking comfort in Steve’s alpha scent. That happened so rarely these days since he came back to himself that it chilled Steve to his marrow. He looked up over Buck’s bowed head and sought out Tony’s sympathetic gaze.

“Your hubby there learned something that thoroughly creeped him out,” Tony said gently.

“That the Greater New York Alpha Omega Benevolence Society is the Pack. Yeah, I’ve been researching it on the Internet. Buck and I – we wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for the Benevolence Society. When Buck aged out of the orphanage, he had nowhere to go, and they helped him find an omega-friendly apartment with a decent rent and an even more decent landlord.”

“Old Mr. Willows was a widowed omega. He knew what it was like,” Bucky murmured against the skin of Steve’s neck, trailing open-mouth, wet kisses there. There was no heat behind the kisses, more absently seeking grounding contact than sexual intent. Tony’s arched eyebrow poised over a salty retort, but the sight of Bucky trying to make himself small against Steve’s chest, practically shivering with emotion stilled his tongue.

“And the Society helped get me out of the orphanage so I could join Buck. I sold newspapers and ran deliveries for the pharmacist to make my part of the rent, but any time we were short and couldn’t get the rent on time, Mr. Willows would tell us the Society had taken care of it. We could pay them back by helping him with maintenance around the place, or volunteering at the Society headquarters. Spent a lot of Saturdays helping out with meals and making up care packages.”

“Got pretty good with a hammer and a paintbrush, too, thanks to old man Willows,” Bucky muttered into Steve’s jaw, pressing his nose against Steve’s cheek, and sliding his stubbled face so his lips brushed against Steve’s.

Steve squeezed Bucky’s shoulder reassuringly, and he deftly spun Bucky in his arms so his back was pressed against Steve’s chest, Steve’s arm crossed over Bucky’s neck and shoulders to ground and hold him. Buck huffed slightly, but Steve could feel him relaxing against him, and when Bucky glanced up at him and nodded, he knew he’d done the right thing. Sometimes the need for alpha dominance could spiral out of control, and Bucky could get too lost in his head. It wasn’t something they’d ever used in their relationship except when Bucky was disassociating. Better to shut it off and simply settle back into the easy intimacy that was a normal part of their relationship, grounding Bucky in the present, the here and now. 

The expression on Tony’s face telegraphed Tony’s relief that the peep show was over before it got too graphic. Bucky grinned a lop-sided grin at the same time Steve brushed his lips across the crown of his head, tightening his arm crossing Buck’s collarbone.

“So. Just how did the Benevolence Society go from the go-to place for genuine help, to the boogeyman that takes kids from their homes against their wills?”

&&&

Ultimately, it was Pepper who was able to provide the most information, since as Tony Stark’s assistant, she’d researched the Greater New York Alpha Omega Benevolence Society when she was looking into appropriate charities to endow with Stark Industries funds. That was early in her tenure with Stark Industries. 

She’d elected to withhold any contributions from the organization, a policy she continued now that she was CEO. Stark had never given money to the organization, and Pepper admitted that she had looked into funding anti-Benevolence Society organizations a time or two over the years.

“I don’t get it. They were wonderful people when we knew them,” Steve said as the five adults – Pepper, Steve, Bucky, Bruce, and yes, Tony – sat over drinks in the lounge area of the common floor while Jasmine and Jack sat over by the kitchen, enjoying ice cream sundaes and sharing the news of the day. Every few minutes, Jasmine would pull out another outfit and squee excitedly about the circumstances it became hers. Bucky was leaning against Steve, back to chest, and Steve had his arm braced across Bucky, holding onto his left shoulder, each of them holding a bottle of beer, while Bruce perched on the edge of his easy chair with a cup of tea, Pepper sat cross-legged in her seat with a glass of wine, and Tony just sprawled with a tumbler of amber liquid.

“As near as I can tell, it was the War. The alpha and omega population of New York was gutted by the War,” Pepper explained.

“Alphas were always the first to enlist,” Bucky said, knocking shoulders with Steve. “Even dumbasses who wouldn’t be considered because of their asthma, heart condition, scoliosis, and seventeen other ailments that would make him 4F all by their lonesome.”

“Had to try,” Steve grinned and took a pull on his beer.

“Yeah, you and every other alpha in town,” Buck complained. “Enlistment offices were full of ‘em. Damn, some of the bullshit that went down, lemme tell ya – whoever thought it was a good idea to let that many alphas in the same space musta been a beta.”

“How so?” Pepper asked.

“Alphas are by nature dominant,” Bucky explained. “Type As. Put about a hundred of those fuckers in the same space, and you have a pissing war big enough to fill the Pacific.”

“Lovely visual. Thank you, James,” Pepper noted primly, and took a healthy swig of her wine and shook her head, as though trying to dislodge the image.

“’S’true. Plus the stink! All those alphas trying to out-scent each other. Needed a gas mask the day I reported.”

“And they took you, no questions asked?” Bruce asked, leaning forward. 

“Healthy strappin’ boy like me?” Bucky asked, sitting forward as Steve’s hand slid away. “Didn’t matter I was omega, they needed cannon fodder. And besides, Steve and I had bonded by then, I wasn’t an unbonded omega. My scent had changed, and I was pretty bland to any other alpha. He always worried if we bonded, he was too weak to alter my scent, and other alphas would still go after me. But I can tell you, I stood in a room with 50 alphas, and I might as well’ve been invisible.”

“You never told me that,” Steve shifted in his seat to look Bucky in the eye.

“Didn’t want it to go to your head, punk,” he replied with a smirk.

“Geeze, I really did marry a jerk,” Steve huffed and flopped back against the couch. Bucky followed suit, snuggling in against his chest, took his arm, and draped it across his own chest the way he liked it, and twined his fingers with Steve’s. He sighed contentedly, and Steve grinned.

“So I get the alphas enlisting. How did that affect the omega population?” Bruce asked as Toy watched the exchange as if it were a tennis match.

“Most bonded omegas, unless they had children, would follow their alpha partner. And a lot of the omegas with kids followed, too. Alpha and omega pairs went to war together,” Steve explained. “We would have, if they’d let me.”

“And the children left behind started to tax the resources of the Benevolence Society,” Pepper continued. “But the worst part was the surviving widowed omegas. There were a lot of suicides in the alpha/omega community following World War II. And then the Korean Conflict. And then Vietnam. The first Gulf War. And 9/11. By then, practically the only alphas and omegas left in New York were old people and children. And there were fewer births in the community each year, and only a small percentage of those children presented either alpha or omega.”

Bucky snorted. “And omegas were always rarer than alphas. Which, when you think about, is nature being stupid.” Steve tightened his arms around Bucky’s shoulders and brushed his lips chastely across Bucky’s ear.

“Just another way of makin’ you special, jerk,” Steve said fondly. Bucky popped his elbow against Steve’s ribs, earning him a whoosh of air and grunt.

“How are you two going to raise children if you keep acting like them?” Pepper asked suddenly.

“Fake it til you make it,” Buck said, while Steve countered with, “Tony brings the worst out in us.”

“What? Seriously? I put a roof over your heads, food on your table, lube in your bedside table, and I bring out the worst in you?”

“It was the lube,” Bucky said simply, and Steve nodded. “Yep, flavored.”

Tony launched a pillow at the nonagenarians, which almost started a pillow fight until Pepper stood up, arms extended to either side, a simmering redness in her eyes. “Don’t make me … just don’t make me,” she finished quietly.

“Sorry,” all three of them muttered, while Bruce snickered under his breath and settled back in his chair. “So how does all this threaten Jack?”

“Benevolence Society can’t be very benevolent if there is no population left. They started closing ranks. Story is they started forcing more births by the remaining omegas among them. And when children present as omega, the Society ensures they breed for the Society as soon as they’re able.”

“An omega teenager can breed with the first heat,” Bucky said quietly.

“A first heat can hit any time between 12 and 17 or so,” Steve added. “I didn’t present until I was nearly 18, and boy was everyone surprised. Society figured I’d be omega, that’s why they let me and Buck live together in that apartment we had with Mr. Willows. If they’d known I’d be alpha, they never would’ve allowed it.”

Everyone was silent waiting to see what Pepper might have to say on the subject. Finally, she set down her glass, folded her hands in her lap, and stared at them for a long moment. Then she roused herself and looked around at each of them. “Yes. There is considerable suspicion that the Pack is breeding omegas before they are legally adults. Without their consent. No one can prove anything. And no one has talked, not on the record. The DA’s office has tried to go after them more than once, but the cases have been thrown out of court for lack of evidence. All of this … it’s the primary reason that the Greater New York Alpha Omega Benevolence Society is permanently on the ‘do not fund’ list for the Stark Foundation.”

The grinding sound heard in the lounge area right then was Bucky’s prosthetic arm pulverizing the arm of the sofa. While not as loud or eerie-sounding, Steve took out the arm on the other side. “Not our kid,” Bucky swore. “And, sorry,” he flicked his gaze at Pepper, who shrugged it off.

As anger ran like current under Bucky’s skin, vibrating, trembling, Steve circled his torso with his arms and held tight. “Damn straight, Buck. Not our kid. Not any kid,” Steve promised. “Not anymore.”

&&&

Bucky insisted on repairing the damage he and Steve did to the sofa, and despite Pepper’s assurances it wasn’t necessary, he managed to do a reasonable job of restoring the arms to functional if not aesthetic condition. Enough, at least, that the sofa could be used for Steve and Bucky to enjoy movie night in the tower.

So now, everyone was congregated in the penthouse lounge, listening to Tony Stark make fun of the pseudo-science of the Transformer franchise, all while Tony played with his vintage Megatron and Bumblebee. 

Thor was sprawled in a love seat, with Jane curled up in his lap, and nearby, Darcy was sprawled with her intern Ian’s head resting in her lap. None of them were paying any attention to Tony, and if they were, Jane could easily have refuted all of Tony’s arguments, and put forth a few of her own. But instead, they just let the words wash over them while they watched the ultimate toys of the 1980s come to life on the screen.

Sam Wilson was visiting from DC and he was darting glances at Maria Hill – ever since Maria had rescued Sam, Natasha and Steve from the Winter Soldier, Sam had been trying to catch Maria’s eye. He’d even talked about moving to New York and accepting Stark’s invitation to an apartment in the tower to try to get onto Hill’s radar. Steve had to laugh at Sam’s puppy dog eyes, especially since he knew that Hill was interested – she was just waiting for Wilson to man up and actually say or do something other than look at her.

Pepper was stretched at one end of the sofa she shared with Tony, and Tony was stretched at the other, his toys piled up in the space in between. Bruce was sprawled in a chair over to the side, snickering softly to himself – he understood Tony’s science as well as the Transformers pseudo-science, and unlike everyone else, actually was paying attention to Tony.

Clint and Natasha took up another sofa – they were dotted around the entertainment space like boats in a marina – with each of them pressed into the opposite end, with their feet and legs tangled in the middle.

That left Steve and Bucky – curled up together on their broken-and-repaired sofa – and Jazz and Jack, sitting on the floor, their backs pressed against the sofa, and their legs stretched out, chowing down on popcorn, cooling pizza, and organic soda. They’d already polished off the first film and were just past the credits of the second when Jasmine’s phone rang.

She was pelted with a hail of popcorn launched by Earth’s mightiest heroes, and boos for not following orders to turn off all phones. Jasmine held the phone up to Jack, but Steve and Bucky could see the face of the phone, too. It was Isabelle.

“Gotta take it, Jazz,” Bucky urged softly.

“It’s our caseworker from CPS,” Steve explained to everyone else. Tony immediately put the film on pause, Pepper said softly, “Lights, please, Jarvis,” and the lights came up. The vibe in the room immediately changed from lazy and self-indulgent – something they all needed – to taut and tense.

Jasmine threaded her fingers through Jack’s and they sat there staring at the phone.

“Sweetie, you need to take that call,” Steve prodded her gently. Bucky had already sat up and now Steve swung his legs to the floor. “There’s a room down the hall where you can take it in private.” He glanced over to Pepper, who nodded.

Jasmine sighed audibly and nodded. She and Jack got up and silently left the TV area for the privacy of the room down the hall.

“Everything okay?” Pepper asked quietly.

“We’ll find out,” Bucky said nervously, turning his head to nose against Steve’s neck for a second time that day, scenting for comfort. 

Steve drew his arm around Buck’s shoulders and squeezed. “Let’s hope so,” he said against Bucky’s hair, pressing his cheek against his husband’s head.

&&&

The teens found the room Steve had indicated and slipped in, flicking on the light. Jasmine took a deep breath and answered the phone, putting it on speaker immediately.

“Hi, kids! Just calling to check in with you. How’s everything going?” came Isabelle’s cheery voice.

“We’re sitting in Stark Tower with the Avengers, watching all the Transformers movies in 3D. It’s going great,” Jack provided, eying his sister warily. She pursed her lips and frowned at the phone.

“Uh-huh. How about you Jasmine, how are you doing?”

“I spent the day with my idol and she bought me a new wardrobe. Pretty sure I’ve gone to heaven,” Jasmine answered with a faint smile. “Why are you really calling, Isabelle?”

“I wanted to know if you’ve made any decisions.”

“About?”

“Whether or not you want to go through with the adoption by Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes.”

Jasmine and Jack looked at each other nervously. So, this was the big decision time.

“I, uh … do we have to decide now?” Jasmine asked in a small voice.

“No, of course not, but are you considering it?”

“This place is cool. Everybody’s really nice, and, well, Bucky makes great pancakes on Saturdays. And the movie night is neat,” Jack answered.

“Jack, Steve and Bucky said that living in the tower is temporary. So the real question is do you want to live with _them_? Wherever they end up?”

“I guess. I mean, Tess and Bob are nice enough, but we know they want just their own baby. Who else wants us? Both of us? We don’t have any grandparents, no other family. Steve and Bucky – they really want us.”

“Oh, honey. That’s no reason to agree to adoption. Do you want to just foster with them for a while until I find someone else? I mean, I’d have to ask them if they’re willing, they were very intent on adopting, but they may be willing to foster –“

“No! No, I’m fine with them. They’re not Mom and Dad, no one can be. They don’t try to be. Jazz, what do you think?” Jack asked her desperately. 

Jasmine stood there chewing on her lip, all confidence bled away, leaving only the lonely, frightened little girl behind. “You may say that’s not a good reason, Isabelle, but who is going to want a pair of teenagers, huh? You know older kids don’t get adopted, especially siblings. This is our one shot at a family, a permanent family.”

“I won’t lie to you. You could be right. But the question is, can you be happy as part of their family? Do you see a future with them?”

Jack and Jasmine joined hands and squeezed tight, resting their foreheads together and closing their eyes, each sighing softly. “I think it’s good, Jazz,” Jack told her quietly, his voice low enough it might not be heard on the other end of the line.

“Pepper said she thought they were good guys, sorta cool, and that they’d make good dads. She said they need us as much as we need a family. And they treat you like a person – not everyone would.”

Jack fished a small parcel out of his pocket and held it out to Jasmine. It was a clear plastic hinged box, full of slender waxy objects, no two alike, since each was a swirl of colors.

“What’s that?” Jasmine asked.

“Suppositories to help with my heat. Ease the symptoms, dry up the slick, and mask my scent. Make me invisible. Bucky designed them, Dr. Banner made them.”

Jasmine closed her hand over the box and nodded.

“Yes, Isabelle,” she said clearly, in a voice meant to carry.

“Yes to what exactly, Jasmine?”

“Yes we want to be adopted by Steve and Bucky,” Jasmine stated slowly and clearly. “I want it.”

“And I want it,” Jack concurred.

“Wonderful. I need to speak with Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes, then. Can you put them on the phone, please?”

Jasmine ran out of the room and yelled, “Steve, Bucky, Isabelle wants to talk to you!”

&&&

Ten minutes later, Steve and Bucky came out of the room hand in hand, walked back slowly to the viewing area. They sat down silently, hands still entwined and simply stared at each other for a long moment.

“We’re gonna be parents, Stevie,” Bucky finally said, a manic smile igniting across his features. 

“You’re gonna be the best dad,” Steve breathed, crashing his lips against Bucky’s for a brief and intense kiss.

“Wait, what?” Tony squawked, and beside him, Pepper leaned forward. 

“Hey! You two with the lips! Explain yourselves!” Pepper commanded, and surprisingly, the boys immediately separated with an audible pop.

“Adoption proceedings at Brooklyn Municipal, Judge Saperstein. Isabelle wants you both to be there, so you won’t be going to school on Monday, at least not until the afternoon. Pepper, do we have a lawyer?” Steve was practically babbling, he was so excited.

“We have an entire legal department,” Pepper responded, pulling out her phone. “We do have an attorney who specializes in family law. What time is your court appearance?”

“Ten thirty,” Bucky said quickly turning over in Steve’s arms so he could see what she was doing.

“Okay, I’ve sent a text off to Vivian to make sure she’s there to represent your interests.” A smile was threatening all around her edges, but she kept it contained by the force of her will. Practical things needed to be addressed, and then there would be time for celebration, dancing barefoot around the tower and singing to ABBA.

“Thanks, Pep,” Steve said sincerely, and Bucky reached over and grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently.

“So we’re gonna be adopted on Monday?” Jasmine asked in a squeaky voice. She and Jack had left Steve and Bucky to discuss issues directly and without any influence from Jasmine or Jack.

Steve’s hand shot out to capture hers, bringing the fingers gently to his lips. “If you’ll have us.”

Jasmine shrugged and grinned at them, and Steve pulled her into an embrace. Bucky reached down and hauled Jack to his feet, pulling him in so the four of them suddenly created a giggling, writhing puppy pile. 

“So does this mean we don’t have to go to school on Monday?” Jasmine asked from within the pile.

“Oh. That’s another thing,” Pepper said, watching the new family. “We have the lawyer covered, but Steve , James – where will the kids go to school? I’m assuming you’ll want them local – school district won’t allow them to commute to Brooklyn. If you’re still living here. You _are_ going to be living here, right?” 

The pile untangled itself as the kids pulled away and looked expectantly at Steve. Bucky looked expectantly at Steve. Around them, the Avengers waited expectantly on Steve’s response.

“Yeah, sure. For the timebeing anyway. But schools – you want to go somewhere new, Jazz, Jack?”

Both kids made affirmative noises, which resolved into comments that the school was pretty new anyway, and they hadn’t made friends to hold them there.

“Okay, so ideas on where to go?” Bucky asked, settling back against Steve’s chest with a small sigh.

“Winchester-Crowley,” Tony said simply. “Great science program, award-winning arts program. Excellent security set-up. And they’ll take you.”

A chorus of “Seriously?” and “Hell yes!” greeted Tony’s suggestion, and Pepper waited for a nod from Steve before announcing, “Organizing now. Jack’s grades are fine, and Jasmine will have to work to bring up her GPA a little, but there will be time. Congratulations – you’ve got a new school.”

“And we’re gonna be parents,” Bucky whispered against the skin of Steve’s neck. “For real.” Steve grinned and ruffled his hair affectionately.

And with that, the movie finally resumed.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating this! I've been posting another work in progress, I, Barnes, which took over my life for over a week. If you haven't read it yet - go read it. I'm really proud of it, and am working on the final chapter - explicit by popular demand! :)
> 
> Leave me some comment love - were you surprised to find out who the Pack are? More to come!


	8. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief domestic interlude, followed by some smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have not abandoned this story! Unfortunately, my Mom unexpectedly passed away on 20Nov14, and that's left me feeling lost and without my best friend. I thought some sad smut might make me feel a little better. See what you think ...

Between the third and fourth Transformers movie, Steve had ordered the kids to get into their pajamas, pointing out that the hour was growing late and they might as well be ready for bed. Both teens protested that they liked to stay up late and would be good to go for hours, but they’d obeyed, leaving the team floor for their apartment so they could change into their pajamas. When the kids got back to the floor, the next movie started up along with freshly popped popcorn and hot chocolate (with little marshmallows), everyone was cuddled in some fashion or other, cozy, soft throws having appeared from nowhere (Pepper later explained when Jazz asked she kept a selection in the upholstered window seat over in the breakfast nook), and the entire team snuggled down to watch explosions and transmogrifying robots. If the press ever managed to snag a picture of the Avengers on movie night, they’d never believe it. 

The kids fell asleep in a pile on the floor, wrapped in throws and each other, and neither roused when the last film was over, so Buck and Steve had simply untangled them gently, scooped them up, bid goodnight to the rest of the Avengers, and carried their kids back to their floor to tuck in. 

_Their kids._

Maybe not quite yet, but it was all over but for the shouting. _Their kids._

They shared the dopey, sappy grins of men who have no idea what they’re getting themselves in for but can’t wait anyway as they travelled to their floor. They paused outside the kids’ bedrooms to share a sloppy, deep kiss with plenty of tongue before splitting apart with a pop to each take a kid into a bedroom. It took only a few minutes for each of them to tuck his respective charge in, place a kiss on the teenaged forehead closest to him, and meet back in the living room, drawn to each other by the intense magnetic pull of the other. They crashed together in a tangle of lips, tongue, and hands, stumbling their way toward their bedroom as they each tried to crawl into the skin of the other.

Steve hit the bed first by the back of his knees and fell backward, pulling Bucky on top of him. Bucky nuzzled against Steve’s neck, lips framing a declaration of love against his skin as Steve’s fingers threaded through his hair, his own lips and tongue worshipping the graceful curve of Bucky’s ear, the strong line of his jaw, the smooth expanse of his throat. Steve could feel the heavy weight of Buck’s hard cock sliding against his own through the barriers of boxers and jeans, and he canted his hips up to press harder against his husband’s erection as Buck ground down. 

He groaned against Bucky’s ear, but Bucky was silent as he burrowed his face deeper into Steve’s scent glands. Steve slid his arms around Bucky’s shoulders and pulled him closer. Closing his eyes as he rubbed his cheek against Bucky’s hair, he whispered, “Want you inside _me_ tonight.”

Bucky grunted against Steve’s shoulder. “’M’slick already,” he murmured, grinding down insistently. 

“And I’ll enjoy eating you out _later_. But right now, I want my husband to fuck me into next week,” Steve said with a smile that he didn’t quite feel as he gently pulled Bucky’s face away from his scent glands to look into his eyes. “I want you to fill me up and make me come on your dick, Buck.”

Bucky stared at him for a long moment, and Steve worried inwardly that he was going to go back to nuzzling his scent glands again. Learning that the Benevolence Society they’d both relied on so heavily as youngsters had become the dreaded Pack had taken a severe toll on Bucky’s equilibrium. Steve hadn’t seen Buck so dependent on his alpha scent for comfort in well over a year, not since those first months after they’d recovered him from Hydra. Steve could see Bucky’s eyes flicking back toward Steve’s neck and shoulder, back to the alpha scent glands he’d been nosing all evening. All day since learning about the Pack. He had to pull him out of his head now, before it got any worse.

“Steve, I –“

“I love you, Buck. I love you and your big damn cock. In me. _Now_ ,” he added, just shy of an alpha command. For emphasis, he rocked his hips upward, thrust his cock against Bucky’s, and got a delighted, wide-eyed smile out of his husband for his troubles. Steve felt the worry uncoil in his gut as he felt the connection between them catch, take fire, and blossom. There you are, he thought. Stay with me, baby.

“Y’don’t have to tell me twice –“

“Actually, third time’s the charm. Lube’s in the top drawer – hop to, soldier!”

While Bucky rolled off him to snag the lube, Steve made short work of his clothes, stripping quickly and rolling over onto his stomach, a pillow under his hips so they were canted upward invitingly. Bucky paused to strip down, too, and paused, one knee on the edge of the bed, taking in the view of his super soldier husband stretched out naked on the bed, his ass cheeks plump and firm, and wriggling ever so slightly just for him.

“You want it like this?” Buck asked breathily as he thumbed open the lube bottle.

“Prep me like this. Want you face to face,” Steve murmured with a self-satisfied smile as he snuggled his face down on his crossed arms. “Y’gonna stare all day, or y’gonna put those fingers to good use?”

“Can’t blame a guy for starin’, Stevie. You’ve always had a gorgeous ass. I’ve always loved your ass, even when you were pint-sized,” he added, straddling Steve’s thighs, and running his strong hands over the firm flesh of Steve’s buttocks. He dug into the muscles with his thumbs, massaging and stroking, gradually working his way to his crack, and nudging the cheeks apart. Steve could feel the delicious slide of Bucky’s cock along his thigh, the smear of pre-cum on the head marking him. He heard him hum low in the back of his throat, an appreciative noise that went straight to Steve’s dick. He was getting so hard, cock trapped under his body, that he was going to have to start moving soon, but he wanted Bucky to take the lead, stay present in the moment, stay out of the bad places in his head. 

Then he felt Buck’s breath against his pucker, heard the throaty chuckle as he felt his own muscles flutter from the sensation. “Buck?”

“I dunno, Steve – not sure I can resist,” Bucky answered, his words puffing air across the sensitive skin of his hole. Then he felt the warm flat of his tongue tracing the line from behind his balls, up his perineum, and across his hole, circling, lapping, and finally flicking over the ring of muscle, as fingers dug into the flesh of his ass cheeks, holding them apart to give Bucky unrestricted access to his hole. 

Steve about leapt out of his skin, the sensation was so deliciously intense. 

So Bucky chuckled to himself and did it again, this time pausing to suck gently at the skin, lick over it, and suck a little further along until he was sucking at Steve’s hole, dragging his tongue over it, and then driving his curled tongue into it. All the while, Bucky hummed to himself, and the vibrations added to Steve’s pleasure as his husband worked to open him first with his mouth.

“Doin’ okay there, baby?” Bucky breathed against Steve’s hip when he came up for air.

“You better be planning to fuck me soon, Barnes, or I’ll flip you over and ride you myself!” Steve ground out, levering his butt off the pillow and lifting Bucky’s face with it.

“So impatient! And so fucking tight, baby,” Bucky said as he stroked a finger along Steve’s crease, from his balls to his pucker and back. “Maybe I don’t want to fuck you. Love the way you feel around my tongue –“

“I’ll feel even better around your cock. So get on with it!” Steve demanded, pressing back with his ass against Buck’s finger.

The raspy quality of Buck’s chuckle told Steve all he needed to know. He could feel the cold drip of lube over his ass and then the gentle probe of Bucky’s index finger teasing at his hole, spreading the lube, pressing carefully against his the outer ring of muscle, and finally sliding in, up to the first knuckle, massaging from the inside out. Steve sighed into it, letting his hips buck a little to push himself further onto Bucky’s finger.

“Okay, okay, already!” Bucky breathed, sliding the finger in deeper, stroking and exploring until he found the bundle of nerves that drove Steve wild. He slid the pad of his finger over that spot a few times, and Steve felt pleasure exploding behind his eyes, setting fire to his blood. 

“Fuck, Buck!”

“Like that, baby? Jesus, you’re beautiful, Steve. So tight, so perfect. Christ, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing you like this. My alpha spread out like an angel, just for me. Ready for another?”

“Fuck, yes,” Steve groaned as Bucky dribbled more lube across his hole and slid a second finger in, stroking in and out, scissoring gently as his other hand fondled Steve’s balls. “ _More_ ,” Steve demanded hoarsely, fucking himself up onto Bucky’s fingers. 

Trailing open-mouthed kisses down the lower end of Steve’s spine, Bucky smiled against his skin and slid a third finger into Steve’s hole, thumb smoothing over the skin of his ass cheek as his fingers pushed in and slid out in a steady rhythm. After a few minutes of finger fucking, Steve begged Bucky, “I’m ready, babe. Need your cock – lemme roll over.”

Steve nearly cried at the empty sensation as Bucky withdrew his fingers and slid off his thighs to wait while Steve rolled over and situated himself. And then Bucky was between his legs, pulling one ankle up over his shoulder, his hand caressing from groin to heel, wrapping the other leg over his hip, his eyes dark with lust, his tongue tracing wetly over his lower lip. “You sure about this, baby? I’m still slick enough you could just push in – “

“Inside me. Now. No more guff – fuck me,” Steve demanded, fingers closing over the flesh over Bucky’s hips. God, he was beautiful, the blue of his eyes lost to the black of lust, his lips parted, teeth worrying at his bottom lip, his cock thick and heavy between his legs, the darkened tip glistening with pre-cum. Steve felt his own cock twitch at the sight of his husband poised over him, so very in the moment with him. Then he heard the pop of the lube cap, a swish of fluid, and the wet slap of Bucky’s hand slathering lube on his cock. And then Steve felt the pressure of Bucky’s cockhead against his hole, the tension of resistance, and then the stretch and burn as Buck pushed into him an inch at a time. As he felt himself filling up with Buck’s dick, he had to ask himself again why they didn’t do it this way more often – the sensation of his ass stretching over the girth of Buck’s dick was like coming home, bodies blending into one.

“Fuck, baby, you are so tight!” Bucky swore, his neck arching back as his eyes snapped closed in pleasure. He groaned as he pushed a little further in, and Steve grabbed at Buck’s hips and pulled him closer, forcing Buck’s cock deeper into his ass until he was bottomed out and they were pressed as close as their bodies would allow. Steve grimaced at the burn, almost painful because he’d taken most of Bucky so fast, but then he felt his muscles relax around that big damn cock he loved so much, and shifted against it, urging Bucky to start moving.

“Don’t fall asleep on me Barnes – get that beautiful ass of yours in gear, damn you,” Steve swore.

And Bucky did, positioning himself for maximum leverage, he slid almost all the way out of Steve, and then drove back in, balls slapping against Steve’s ass as he thrust against him. Steve grinned up at him, fingers tight on Bucky’s hips as his husband plowed into him again. “That’s it, baby – _let me feel you_. Fuck me, baby – make me come on your dick. Let me watch you cum,” he urged, keeping up a steady litany of praise and encouragement and direction as Bucky continued to pound into him, hips pistoning, cock slamming into Steve’s prostate every few strokes as Bucky gasped and cursed and breathed Steve’s name like it was a prayer.

Steve’s hands moved over Bucky’s hips and down over the powerful muscles of his ass, smoothing over the cleft of his ass cheeks, as he trailed his fingers over Buck’s slicked hole. Bucky flashed him a delighted grin as Steve’s fingers stroked around Bucky’s pucker, then slid easily inside, stroking in time to Bucky’s thrusts. Bucky was babbling by now, muttering, “Steve, baby!” and “Fuck, baby, don’t stop!”

Steve’s cock bounced between them, rocked by the power of Bucky’s thrusts, but untouched between them where it drooled pre-cum over Steve’s abs.

And through it all, Steve eyes held Bucky’s, kept him anchored in the present as their bodies drove against each other, bringing them closer and closer to orgasm.

And Steve could feel the heat coiling down his spine, tightening his balls, and spiking up through his gut. 

He could see it in the line forming between Bucky’s brows, the way his neck and shoulder muscles strained, the grunt of pleasure as Bucky’s cock continued to piledrive Steve’s ass and Steve continued to stroke his hole.

Their eyes never wavered, never closed, never broke away. Steve could feel the orgasm spiking, the sudden eruption of jizz painting his abs and chest, even a few drops hitting his face as Bucky’s name tore out of him at the same time Bucky shouted his name, arching up like he was cresting the wave, and Steve was aware of the spreading warmth of Bucky’s release as his senses whited out and he lost himself to the bliss.

When he came back to himself a few moments later, Bucky was gently lowering Steve’s leg off his shoulder, then the other from his hip, and carefully stretched out against Steve, ignoring the cum all over Steve’s abs and chest, his own dick still half-hard and buried to the hilt inside Steve, Steve’s fingers still buried in Bucky. Arms bracketing Steve’s head, Bucky pressed his lips against Steve’s and whispered into his mouth, “I love you.”

“Don’t know nothin’ better,” Steve smiled, kissing Bucky back. “I love you, too.”

And they kissed lazily, Bucky stretched out on top of Steve, hands roaming over each other’s heated, slick flesh, sharing air and spit and love.

And then Steve said, “You’re kinda heavy, Buck – maybe slide off a little.”

“Hmmph. You sayin’ I’m fat? ‘Cos, y’know, super soldier metabolism. And speakin’ of … did I hear you sayin‘ something about eatin’ me out? ‘Cos yes please, baby. Wanna feel your tongue inside me, Stevie. Y’up for it?”

Steve smiled, braced, and flipped them over. “On your stomach, soldier. That’s an order,” he added with a grin, answering the self-satisfied smirk on Bucky’s face. Very much here in the moment Bucky, not lost in his head Bucky. There’d be more to deal with tomorrow as they figured out together how they were going to protect their kids from the Pack –and what they could do to take it out. But for now, they were together, in the now, and Steve had a very serious task to undertake. With pleasure.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing is a bit difficult right now, but i promise you I will finish this story, and my other WIPs here on AO3.
> 
> In the meantime, comments are most welcome!


	9. Boulevard of Broken Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the quiet of the night, Bucky finally breaks his silence over some of his treatment by Hydra, and comes to understand the real threat of the Pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, no, contrary to popular belief, I have not abandoned this story! I have been chipping away at it, and hope to continue it more actively in the not too distant future. Once I finish I, Barnes and Start Again!
> 
> But this scene came to me vividly one day, and I realized this was a key scene to get us through the big showdown that's coming.

Steve didn’t know what woke him at first, but suddenly he was wide awake and intensely aware of the cooling space in bed beside him.

“Buck?” he called out softly. He felt more than heard the shift in the air, the subtle hiss of fabric moving against fabric. The bed shifted as Bucky scooted back from the edge, shuddered as he pressed his back against the headboard, drew his knees up to his chin, and wrapped his arms tightly around his knees as the shivers continued unabated.

Full defensive position. Steve hadn’t seen Bucky drop into this headspace for a while, but he wasn’t surprised. He’d hoped he could spare Bucky this downward spiral, but it looked like his efforts at distraction had been just that – mere distraction.

He reached out a gentle, open-palmed hand to touch his husband, to ground him. To pull him back from the precipice to hold him close and never, ever let him go again.

“Buck?” he breathed again, shifting in bed so that he sat with his back against the headboard, too, his body more relaxed than Bucky’s, his breathing more regular, less harsh and anxious. He focused on his breathing, counting out the breaths as his fingers sought out Bucky’s pulse point in his wrist, and just rested there. “Where are you, baby?”

Bucky still shivered, and Steve took that as his cue to press skin to skin. Sharing warmth was nice, but really he wanted the reassurance of his husband’s body pressed against his, real, present, here. He needed it as much he knew that Bucky did. Bucky tensed at the contact, then melted, and Steve took the opportunity to wrap his arm around Buck’s shoulders and draw him closer, tucking Bucky’s head under his chin, and reaching over with his other arm to embrace the love of his life.

He could feel the nerves, the fear, sparking just under Bucky’s skin. He let his hands move, sliding up and down Bucky’s back, his harms, his shoulders. Touching, reassuring, comforting. He hoped the touches were comforting. Bucky’s breathing was calming, matching his, and the shivering seemed to ease as Bucky pressed into the warmth of Steve’s body. He hoped it would be enough. He knew it couldn’t be. Whatever haunted Buck, it might take more than cuddles and canoodling to quell.

They sat like that in silence, matching breaths, heartbeats, touches. Finally, Bucky seemed to sigh, an almost defeated sound, and he whispered, “They tried to breed me.” 

Steve’s hands stilled for a moment, and then he went back to his methodical touch, warming, reassuring, cradling. Reminding himself that whatever else had happened in their long and confusing lives, they were here together. Today. And he just needed to help Bucky remember that as well.

“Who, Buck?” Steve asked softly, trying to keep anger and fear out of his voice, keeping it gentle, calm.

“Hydra. More than once. First Schmidt, they tried to trigger a heat. A breeding heat. But it didn't work. Fucker had some idea if he could shoot me up with some version of the serum and then knock me up, he could breed an Army of good little Hydrans. It pissed him off that I was bonded. They missed the mark before they started pumping me full of shit. Hell, I don't know, maybe it took _because_ I was bonded. You took. Lucky Schmidt never figured we were bonded to each other before you killed his creepy ass.”

Bucky smiled weakly, but it was a start. Bucky started to uncoil, letting go his legs and stretching them out, curling in Steve’s arms to rest against his chest and shoulder, hips touching, legs twining. 

Yes. There you are. Where you belong, where you’re home.

“They tried again later. After. After your plane went down. When they made the Winter Soldier. They stripped away everything I was, but they couldn’t strip away that. They couldn't get near me when I was in heat. Even if I didn't know who I was, my body, it recognized the scent was wrong. My body knew you. I killed a couple of potential suitors - snapped one guys dick clean off, he bled out in minutes. Finally, they just put me on suppressants so I wouldn't go into any form of heat. The grand plan of the founder of Hydra, done in by an instinct even their machines and torture couldn’t undo.”

“I –“ Steve frowned, his arms instinctively tightening to draw his mate, his omega, his love, his best friend closer. Bucky’s arms slid around his torso to embrace him back.

“They tried to take you away from me, Stevie,” Buck said softly against the skin of Steve’s neck. “They tried to burn you out of my head, cut you out of my flesh. Fuck me out of our bond. But they didn’t understand you weren’t just my mate. You were the other half of my soul. You are. You always were. You always will be.”

Bucky turned toward him then, curling into him and practically climbed into his lap. He raised his face and pressed kisses into Steve’s jaw, nuzzled along Steve’s scent glands, down along his neck and across his clavicle. His hands kneaded Steve’s pecs, trailed down over his abs, paused over his hipbones. He slung one leg over Steve’s hips and settled onto his legs, looking down at Steve. Steve looked at him, overwhelmed with how much he loved this man, how much he admired him. What he’d endured, what he’d survived, to be here, with him, now, it made Steve feel small and humble and one with the universe and incredibly proud.

“This Pack,” Bucky nearly spat, grinding down on Steve, striking sparks up his spine. Steve’s hands soothed up and down Bucky’s thighs where they bracketed his own pelvis. He fought the urge to lift his hips and grind back at Bucky, letting Bucky take the lead as he slowly, deliciously, bore down on Steve. “They’re doing that to kids. What Hydra tried to do me, our own people are doing to kids. Unbonded, too young, they don’t have a chance. They’re being used, abused. They’re just kids, for fuck’s sake! I had you, I had our bond. I lost everything else, but I had that. This ain’t right.”

“No.” If Steve’s voice was suddenly a little breathless, could anyone blame him? This gorgeous man was pouring all his frustration and anger into the most intense sensations. Steve was already getting hard, his head spinning as Bucky undulated on top of him.

“We gotta put a stop to it.” Punctuated with a pointed thrust downward.

“Yes.” The “S” stretched out on the air, an agreement to Bucky’s plan, to Bucky’s hips, to anything that Bucky wanted, now and forever.

“We gotta bring ‘em down. No matter what they were in the past, they’re wrong now. We gotta close ‘em down and save those kids.” And now Steve could feel the telltale slide of slick seeping into Bucky’s sleep pants, making the steady movement of his hips even more hypnotic, even more arousing. Steve grit his teeth trying to keep himself from thrusting up into the warm, moist heat beckoning to him.

“We will,” he whispered fervently, hands sliding up Bucky’s thighs to curl over his hipbones, spread over the firm, pliant flesh of his ass cheeks.

“We got kids, now, Stevie. We gotta protect our kids,” Bucky insisted, dropping forward to rest his hands on Steve’s pectorals, cupping them, massaging them, thumbs teasing over his hardening nipples.

“We will, Buck. I promise you, we will,” Steve swore, giving in to sensation and letting his hips buck up against Bucky’s ass, his proudly erect cock.

Bucky nodded, leaning down to capture Steve’s mouth with his own. “Good. Now hurry up and fuck me – we gotta take the kids out for brunch in a few hours, and I wanna _feel_ you, baby. We survived the Depression and the War, we beat Hydra and we beat history. That’s gotta be worth celebratin’, huh? And we’re gonna beat the Pack. ‘Cos nothin’ can stop us when we’re together, baby,” he whispered as Steve surged up to wrap his arms around his shoulders, cradle his neck and head, pulling him close for a searing kiss.

And then they broke apart to tear off the clothes that were between them, Then there was nothing between them but the love and passion they’d always shared.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this universe, and I have a prequel in the works, the tale of how little Stevie Rogers and Bucky Barnes became mates. And yes, it's different from Trollop's interpretation.
> 
> So ... I know it's been like almost a year since i updated, and I am so sorry. This story, like every other one I'm working on, is never far from my thoughts. But actual writing ... well, that's the challenge. I'd love to know what you think of the latest installment!


	10. Sunday, Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time between learning something wonderful is going to happen and it actually happening can be intense and frightening and full of wonder. Steve and Bucky are 24 hours away from finding out if they are going to become parents after all. Jasmine and Jack are 24 hours away from finding out if they've got a new family. 
> 
> It's time for bonding, embarrassing questions, and becoming a family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hadn't planned to post another chapter so soon, but this one just sort of wrote itself. A quiet day in between, a chance to catch their breaths as the world moves by at warp speed. Everything is happening so fast, so much faster than normal. But for today, this little family gets to be just that - a family.

Sunday dawned early enough, thanks to two excited teenagers cashing in on a promise of food and lots of it. Steve was grateful that both he and Bucky had thought to pull on sleep pants after their nocturnal adventure, since the kids decided that bursting into their bedroom and jumping on the bed while both men were still asleep was a great idea to start the day.

Steve was inordinately proud of Bucky for not going Winter Soldier on the kids, but there was going to have to be a conversation on boundaries, and soon. Soon, but later. After he discussed it with Sam first. He never wanted the kids to be afraid of Buck, and he never wanted Buck to think he didn’t trust him with the kids. But he needed to keep every member of his family safe. They just had to find a happy medium that didn’t ignore the fact that both Bucky and Steve still struggled with PTSD, while giving the kids the kind of loving home they all wanted.

So, after much tickling, cajoling, elbowing-out-of-the-way-in-front-of-the-bathroom-mirroring, the four of them were cleaned up, dressed, and ready to go.

Unsurprisingly, Happy was standing in the lobby with his usual welcoming grin, ready to drive the Rogers-Barnes – or was it Barnes-Rogers? – clan to brunch.

Jazz was thrilled at the idea of being chauffeured to breakfast and had taken her seat with a delighted squeal, while Jack was doubtful about it until Happy agreed he could ride in the front seat so he could start his driver training. “If that’s okay with you guys,” Happy thought to say sheepishly after he’d already promised Jack. 

Buck had just shrugged and gotten into the back seat of the limo like he was born to it, while Jazz bounced up and down on the facing bench seat, so Steve said, “Sure,” and got in beside his husband. Jack whooped and yelled “Shotgun!” before clambering into the front seat to ride along with Happy.

Brunch was amazing, as always, but today had a quality of extra special about it thanks to the presence of Jasmine and Jack. Like they were all standing on the edge of something fabulous.

Which, if all went well the next day, they were.

That isn’t to say there weren’t uncomfortable moments, like when the kids peppered Steve and Bucky with probing questions – something both men quickly acknowledged they would have to get used to.

Like, when Jasmine asked, “How could you get a vasectomy if that super serum thing fixes everything?”

“Well, it needs time to fix anything, if I’m hurt, it takes some time – and fuel – for me to heal. Buck, too.”

“Yeah, but a vasectomy – that’s a snip, right? They just cut through the thingie. Why doesn’t it just heal?”

“Asgard,” Bucky blurted.

“Come again?”

“Asgard. Might as well tell the whole story, Stevie,” Bucky had said, grinning around his omelet. “Dumbass had to go to Asgard to get the snip to stay.” And then he leaned sideways to plant a sappy kiss on Steve’s cheek.

“Asgard. You mean you went to another _planet_ to get fixed,” Jasmine demanded breathlessly.

“They had the technology,” Steve shrugged, cutting into his ham steak. “And I’m not a cat.”

“So you can travel to other planets?” Jack demanded, his mouth full.

“What’d we say about talking with your mouth full?” Bucky asked, smothering a chuckle.

Jack gulped his food down and repeated the question.

“Well, sometimes. It was a big favor. I think I owe something really huge to the Asgardian royal family, but since that’s basically Thor, I think I’m okay.”

“Can I go?”

“Go?”

“Go to Asgard. Can I go to other planets?”

“Um –“ Bucky glanced at Steve with a look of panic in his eyes. He took a nervous swallow of his mimosa, wide eyes urging Steve to take this one.

“Well –“

“He’s totally a geek,” Jasmine chattered away. “But I wouldn’t mind going so I can see how awesome the clothes are. And the buildings – I bet they’re amazing. I bet they defy gravity, right? And how the women are in charge. They’re in charge, right? Asgard is supposed to be an advanced culture, right?”

Steve had to grin at her enthusiasm and the wide range of her interests – clothes, architecture, politics. Women’s rights. “Well, the clothes are awesome, if you like capes and leather and stuff. The architecture is unreal, to be honest. And yeah, sometimes it looks like it defies gravity. But advanced when it comes to women? Not as much as you might wish. The All-Father is kind of old-fashioned, and even more so since Thor’s mother was killed. But I think Thor and Jane might change that someday.”

“You still didn’t answer the question – can we go to Asgard?” Jack insisted.

“Not on a whim. It takes a lot of energy to open the Bifrost. But I’m sure there’ll be an occasion when we can all go,” Steve demurred.

Bucky snorted. “Pretty sure Thor’s gonna pop the question to Jane someday soon. He keeps looking at us like he’s feeling left out. They get married on Asgard, we better be invited, or I’m takin’ him off my Christmas list.”

“You don’t have a Christmas list.”

“I’ll start one just so I can take ‘im off.”

Then there was when Jack asked them how they knew they were made to be a couple. Steve and Bucky exchanged equally sappy looks, and then each thought about it for a long moment while they chewed their food. The kids sat there expectantly, Jasmine holding her fork aloft while she stared with intent, Jack continuing to shovel food but watching both men inquisitively.

“Don’t ever remember thinking of us as a couple, really. Just never thought of us as anything other than Steve and Bucky.”

“Bucky and Steve,” Bucky corrected with a grin. “Yeah, but I don’t think I really figured it out until we had that fight. Remember the one where I got invited on a picnic with Sally Meadows? I didn’t understand why you were upset – I was thrilled to be invited to step out with a girl. Like a normal fella. It didn’t occur to me that it meant anything other than just spending time with someone who was pretty and who liked me. It never occurred to me that it might mean that I was picking someone over you.” Bucky reached for Steve’s hand then, fingers curling into Steve’s palm and squeezing.

“Yeah. I remember feeling, well, left out. Betrayed, even. Kinda … broken, I guess. I packed up and I left. We had this place in the attic where we hung out, especially after Buck presented and was assigned to an omega dormitory.”

“Which you transferred to as well, since everyone figured you for an omega. Yeah, nuns tried to keep us apart a coupla times, didn’t stick. Finally they gave up, let us stay together all the time. Half the time we ended up together in the same cot if Steve here was having a bad time with the asthma. But that day … boy did I screw up. And I seriously had no clue. I came back and you were gone, and I went off to find you. Old Mr. Dixon told me to check the park, and that’s where I saw you. Sitting on a bench sketching that pretty girl, and she was looking at you like she wanted to eat you up with a spoon.” Bucky’s fingers tightened around Steve’s, and Steve lifted their joined hands up to his lips, where he ghosted his lips over Bucky’s knuckles.

“I figured if he was gonna go out with Sally, I didn’t belong up there anymore. So I went to the park to draw. It always cleared my head. She was nice,” he concluded, smiling at the memory. “She asked about my drawings. Asked if I’d draw her. She offered me a quarter.”

The kids giggled at that, and Steve drew himself up indignantly. “I’ll have you know that a quarter was a lot of money in Depression-era New York. Coulda both gone to the pictures for the whole day, and still had money left over for popcorn or a Coke.”

“Seriously, on a _quarter_?”

“Saturday pictures cost a dime. Not that people had much then. But she did – I remember her holding it up, all shiny and new. Figured I might be able to do somethin’ nice with that quarter,” Steve added wistfully.

“Like what, punk?” Bucky chuckled, leaning forward to glance upward at Steve.

“Like takin’ you somewhere special, somewhere better’n a picnic,” Steve admitted softly.

“So _that’s_ how you afforded those Dodgers tickets,” Bucky guessed breathlessly, and Steve nodded. Bucky leaned over and kissed his cheek fervently. “Best day of my life up to that point. Thanks, baby.”

“So did you like her? The girl?” Jasmine prompted, her face propped on the heel of her hand as she listened in rapt fascination to the tale of Steve and his first “girlfriend.”

“She was nice enough. She was pretty, and a good model. I didn’t get much chance to draw girls, and she had the most beautiful hair, done up in a fancy braid. Girls at the orphanage had braided hair, but not like this. I enjoyed the challenge of getting the ins and outs of the braid just right. She liked it, though. Gave me the quarter and a kiss on the cheek.”

“And that’s when I saw them. Dixon told me where you’d gone, but it took me a while to get out of the building – Sister Benedict had some stuff she wanted shifted around. But the time I got out and got to the park, I guess you’d finished and she was kissing your cheek. I saw red. And then I realized. I realized how I’d hurt you being all excited about steppin’ out with Sally. Because it didn’t mean anything, it was just that I’d been asked was all. But the idea that you might want someone other than me, might actually pick someone other than me … I realized I couldn’t take it. I think that’s the moment I realized that we were meant to be together, that I couldn’t live without you. We were more than just two pals. We were a couple. Yeah.”

“So he comes stompin’ across the park, steam puffing out of his big ears, face as red as a tomato, fit to chew nails. And he has some cock and bull story about the nuns being real mad I left the orphanage without permission, and if I don’t get back right away there’s gonna be hell to pay, and Sister Ignacious is gonna tan my hide. Made me look like a little kid in front of her when Buck here started dragging me off by the scruff of my neck. Practically ripped the collar right off my shirt. So I toss my sketchbook on the ground and take a swing at ‘im.”

“Next thing we know, we’re rolling all over the dirt beating the crap out of each other, and Sister Ignacious is there, pullin’ us apart, tellin’ us she’s really gonna tan our hides. It was humiliatin’.”

“’S’ _your_ fault.”

“Yeah. But after, once we’re served our time – separate sentences, I’ll have you know – we ended up back in the attic again. I wandered up there and found Steve lying there asleep on the floor in the moonlight.”

“And he woke me up with a kiss.”

“And we finally said it. Both of us at the same time.”

“I love you.”

“Still do, punk.”

“Never gonna stop, jerk.”

“Gag!” Jack cried.

“It’s kinda sweet,” Jasmine said dreamily. “Just none of that icky stuff, huh?”

“Y’mean like this?” Bucky asked, leaning in to capture Steve’s lips in a soft, sweet kiss.

“Stop, stop! It burns! Oh, it burns!” Jack cried out while Jasmine giggled.

“Shit, Steve, looks like we’re adopting a drama queen!”

“Language!” Steve and Jasmine admonished in harmony, and the entire family dissolved into laughter.

The morning stretched into the afternoon and into the evening, the foursome spending time together as they grew to know one another better. Happy came back to collect them and take them back to the tower, where they each flopped down on a soft, stationary surface in the living room to recover from too much food and watch television unapologetically. Movies queued up and played, one after another, every member of their new family calling out a preference as each took a turn, and Jarvis located the film in Stark’s extensive library. Questions continued to crop up occasionally, more out of wandering curiosity than a burning need to know, the questions revealing as much about the person asking them as the answers did in response.

“What about chores? Allowance?” Jasmine asked. “How do we earn our spending money?”

Steve glanced at Bucky and smiled. Not “buy me stuff” but “how do I earn?” Steve settled more comfortably on the couch where he leaned against Bucky, fingers entwined and shrugged. “We tend to wash our own dishes when we use ‘em – I usually forget there’s a dishwasher. So always wash your dishes, or one of you can be in charge of the dishwasher –“

“Good idea, if you don’t use it, it can build up bacteria, start smellin’ – what, Sam said!” Bucky protested with a giggle.

“Yeah, whatever. Um, Pepper has a service that comes in and cleans, but you should keep your own spaces organized and clean. Dirty clothes go down the chute, and there’s a laundry that takes care of them – so that’s taken care of. Hmmm.”

“So it sounds like there isn’t anything we can do. Can we get jobs?” Jack asked worriedly.

“Yeah. I love everything Ms. Potts got me, but I can’t expect people to be giving me stuff all the time. I need to be able to earn my own money so I can get things I want. Or presents, or …”

“Well, we’ll have to figure something out. I appreciate the fact that you don’t expect to get everything for nothing. I mean, you’ll have to get settled in school, and keep your grades up, but if you have free time and you want to use it, you can always volunteer – there are lots of organizations that could use some extra hands to help people out.”

“Yeah, but that’s not gonna help us earn money. That’s _volunteering_. You volunteer and you don’t expect something back in return.”

“I’ll talk to Pepper – maybe there are part-time jobs with Stark Industries or the Foundation,” Bucky suggested thoughtfully.

“Good idea,” Steve said, as Jasmine piped up with, “I could be Ms. Potts personal assistant!”

“’Fraid that job’s taken already,” Bucky told her, frowning as Jasmine’s facefell. “She’s got a great lady who fills that role already. You’ll get to meet her this week. But who knows, maybe she could use a hand. And we’ll see if Bruce wants a lab assistant, how does _that_ sound, Jack?”

“Sounds great,” Jack agreed enthusiastically. “But hey, is there anything to eat? I’m starving.”

And so the evening went, until it was time for everyone to turn in, and no one mentioned their nerves over what the next day would bring. Court, legal stuff, proving themselves worthy to be parents, hopefully making their family official. 

Assuming nothing went wrong.

_So much could go wrong._

Steve and Bucky had a hard time falling asleep, both of them ending up on their backs, staring at the ceiling, hands clasped between them as each drew strength from the other as they whispered soft words of encouragement to each other.

Little did they know that after going to bed, Jasmine had crept out of her room to join Jack in his, and the two of them huddled together under the covers, nervously talking in whispers about what was happening next, neither voicing fears, but each aware of the other’s unspoken concerns.

Monday morning couldn’t come fast enough. None of them were ready for it, all of them were anxious for it, so it seemed to take its time, dawdling maddeningly until suddenly, it was time.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have given away some of the story in the prequel to "Considerations," "Possibilities." Considering it's not finished yet, and there was a perfect moment to share that moment when the boys realize they're in love, I couldn't resist. There's a lot more to that pivotal day, and that will appear in the story when it's written and posted. Who knew a simple "What if?" question would turn into a trilogy?
> 
> I love writing in this universe. I love writing happy Steve and Bucky. I need to do more of that - so much of my other stuff is angst-ridden, and for where I am in my life, it's serving a useful purpose as fan fiction as therapy. But sometimes you just need to have happy, too.
> 
> Comments make me happy. :)


	11. Order in the Court

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weekend of fun and frivolity gives way to the reality of Monday. Court, legal papers, the threat of the Pack. Suits, and adult decisions. Geeze, sounds like going back to work after a long holiday weekend, hmmm?
> 
> The Rogers-Barnes family finds themselves in court hoping for the best. But in the back of everyone's mind, there's still that niggling fear ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that the Children's Court represented here has no resemblance to any court, anywhere. I made the whole thing up, from traditions to process to everything.

Steve stood in front of the full-length mirror and adjusted his cuffs, fingering the cufflinks and wondering if they were too much. He’d trotted out his best power suit under instructions from Pepper, but he had to wonder if flaunting his power and influence was the right message to send when what he wanted to say was loving and nurturing. Good Dad. Good provider. Safe. Stable. Not buying kids Lamborghinis but if they earn it, they can get their own Hondas when they’re of age. Boring and steady. 

He guessed he’d given up claim to those two adjectives over 70 years ago. He wasn’t going to be able to hide the fact that he was Captain America. He was proud of who he was, what he’d survived, that he was still here. And that went double for Buck. He only hoped it all didn’t work against them. Still, he eyed his closet where his beloved “grandpa clothes” hid from ridiculing Stark (and Potts, and Barnes) eyes, and sighed wistfully. He trusted Pepper. He did. Power suit it was.

And if he’d had any further doubt, they were chased away by the sinuous hands that snaked around his torso, sliding up over the expensive fabric of his handmade shirt, thumbing over his clothed nipples and dipping down into the waistband circled by a hand-tooled leather belt.

“Damn, you clean up good, Rogers!” Bucky’s breath warmed the curve of his ear as his lips brushed along his collar. “If we didn’t have a pressing engagement, I’d be pressing you back into the mattress, baby. Gonna enjoy peeling you out of this monkey suit later,” he added, nipping at Steve’s earlobe.

And the coil of lust that burned through Steve wasn’t surprising, wasn’t new, but it wasn’t welcome at this juncture. “Down, tiger. We got kids and we got an image to project, yeah?” Despite his discouraging words, he spun around in the curl of his husband’s arms, caught the lapels of Bucky’s jacket, and hauled him close for a searing kiss. “Behave yourself, and there’s more where that came from, jerk.”

“You always say the sweetest things, doll,” Buck smirked, pecking him lightly on the nose as his hands grabbed his ass and dragged him in tight. “I know how to be good. I’ll be so good for you,” he drawled, grinding his crotch against Steve’s, causing Steve to swat him away with a huff. “Seriously, you look good, baby. You’ll knock ‘em dead,” he added letting Steve go so he could straighten his own clothes so they hung perfectly.

“They’ll be too busy lookin’ at you to notice me, Buck. Wow.”

“Are you two done making goo-goo eyes at each other long enough to get out of here?” Jasmine demanded from their doorway. A door that had been closed.

“Jazz, when we get back, we’re having a conversation about boundaries. First of all, a closed door means you knock first. Got it?” Steve asked gently as he steered her out of their room, Bucky right behind him.

“Yeah, okay, sorry. I just don’t want to be late –“

“It’s okay, baby,” Bucky told her, coming up behind her and dropping a kiss on the crown of her head. “It’s just that sometimes, Steve and me, we have bad dreams that spill over when we’re awake. Sometimes it’s really bad. We don’t ever want you walking in on that, kiddo.”

“Oh,” she said in a small voice. “Is that an alpha-omega thing, too? ‘Cos you know Jack gets that way sometimes.”

“Nope. It’s a soldier thing,” Steve answered, ushering her down the hallway. “An ice thing, I guess, too. And a bad memory thing. And we know Jack’s got some awful memories. Buck’s already talked to him about that some – we can definitely help him with that.”

“How, if you get ‘em, too?” 

“There are coping strategies,” he told her, and paused suddenly, dropping his voice so it wouldn’t carry beyond the three of them. “First thing we need to figure out is what’s triggering him – although, I think we can guess, but let’s face it, he’s got more than one reason for the night terrors right now. But this next week is going to be important for Jack, coming into his first real heat. We’ve all got to work to make it as easy on him as possible, make everything as normal as possible. Reduce the stress.”

Jasmine stared at him in silence for a long moment, then launched herself at him to hug him. Her arms couldn’t encompass the circumference of Steve’s torso, but that didn’t matter – it warmed him to his core just the same. He reached out and hugged her close, bending down to kiss her curls reverently. “What’d I do to deserve this? Not that I’m complaining, mind you!” he chuckled, glancing over her head to look helplessly at Bucky, tears pricking at his eyes.

“Yeah, where’s my sugar, huh?” Bucky complained, but his eyes were twinkling as he grinned down at Steve as he crowded around them. Jasmine just pivoted in Steve’s arms and hugged Bucky close as well.

“I’m so grateful you’re okay with Jack. That you can help. He’s been getting more and more scared the closer his heat’s gotten. I don’t know what we would’ve done without you two.”

“Hey!” Jack called from the living room where he stood uncomfortably wriggling in his own suit. Not something new, for which Pepper had apologized to him at least ten times, promising a brand new wardrobe as soon as Jack was willing to shop with her. Jack had confided to Bucky, and Bucky had told Steve that unless said shopping was at Hot Topic, Gamestop, and in a pinch, The Gap, he wasn’t interested. In the meantime, the Emersons had pulled together his suit so Happy could pick it up on Sunday so he’d be prepared for the court appearance today. They’d all stop by at the Emersons later to pick up the rest of the kids’ things and let the kids say a proper goodbye and thank you to the Emersons. Steve made a mental note to be sure to invite the Emersons over for dinner sometime soon, and to make sure the whole family picked out gifts for the baby.

But that was later, and this was now, and Jack was looking expectantly at the way that Steve, Bucky, and Jazz were hugging.

“Hay is for horses,” Steve corrected, disentangling himself from Buck and Jasmine. “Good morning to you, too,” he added, closing the gap between him and Jack in a few easy strides. He picked the boy up and hugged him, hard enough that he knew he was being hugged, not hard enough to damage anything important. “Looking pretty handsome there, Mr. Firth. Gonna impress the socks right off that judge today, huh?”

“Hope so,” Jack agreed as Steve dropped him back on his feet, and he shrugged his suit back into a semblance of order. “You’re really sure about this?” he asked, his voice breaking on multiple octaves as he glanced nervously at Steve. 

Damn, impending heat and voice changing. Even Buck hadn’t had to deal with both at the same time. Steve found himself smiling fondly at the boy who’d be his son. “What, you think I’m gonna let a great kid like you get away? Damn straight we’re sure. We may not have known each other long, but we’re family. So, let’s get this family circus on the road – Happy’s waiting for us in the lobby, and Ms. Alvarez will meet us at the courthouse.” Steve tapped Jack on the shoulder and lifted his thumb upward so Jack would raise his chin. Steve straightened the boy’s collar and tugged the tie into a neater knot, then smoothed down the lapels of his jacket. “You’re a heartbreaker, Jack,” he said softly, smiling affectionately. Jack batted Steve’s hands away, but the smile he gave him was sappy and warm. “C’mon. Soon as we’re done there, we can go visit the Emersons – maybe we could invite them to go to a diner I know with us. I’m sure Mrs. Emerson would love an opportunity not to have to cook.”

“Yeah, it’s really Theo - Mr. Emerson – who does all the cooking,” Jack was saying as they made their way to the elevator. “That or we made our own food. She’s a nice lady and she’s really a pretty great Mom, but she’s an awful cook.”

“Hmm,” Jasmine agreed. “How does anyone mess up Kraft Mac’n’Cheese? _She_ does. And a different way every time!”

Steve caught Bucky’s eye over the heads of the kids as they chattered away, and smiled sappily. He seemed to do that a lot, but he couldn’t help it. Sappy was just what they were, they were going to have to come to terms with it. Having these two in their lives just filled some need he hadn’t even been aware he had, and he knew from looking at Buck’s face he felt the same. He’d have been fine – they’d both be more than fine – to live their lives just the two of them, never have kids or even think about them. But now that Jazz and Jack were in their lives, he honestly could not imagine ever being without them. He extended his hand, knowing that Buck would grasp it, and he did. They held hands in the elevator all the way down to the lobby to meet Happy, and then to the car, letting go only to get situated before their fingers found each other again. And Jazz and Jack chattered on the entire trip, from their floor to the lobby to the court house.

&&&

“All rise,” the bailiff called out, and the assembled people present in Court Room D23 shuffled to their feet. “The Children’s Court is called to order, Judge Cecile Saperstein presiding.”

Judge Saperstein entered briskly from her chambers, her robes fluttering briefly as she swept into the courtroom and took her place at the bench. She was a no-nonsense, dynamic woman in her late fifties, with bright, observant brown eyes, olive complexion, and dark wavy hair dusted with gray pulled back off her face in an elegant chignon. She settled in her seat and pulled out a pair of reading glasses that she perched on the tip of her nose and surveyed the courtroom. “Be seated,” she said in a voice that was deceptively soft since it carried easily to the last row, even over the chaotic sounds of over perhaps 50 people shifting and moving. 

The first few rows behind the mahogany barrier separating the bench from the audience were petitioners, their families, and their lawyers. Behind them was a space and another mahogany barrier, this one wider and higher, and behind that, the public could sit. The Rogers-Barnes clan sat in the front row to the right side of the courtroom, just behind one of the two tables set up for plaintiffs and their legal representatives. There were several other families waiting, looking tense, looking hopeful, looking happy – the whole gamut. And behind them all in the observation gallery, there was a collection of what looked like law students, people with notepads and tablets – bloggers, maybe? Reporters? And a few assorted civilians. The general mood of the court was pensive, waiting.

The Children’s Court was an amalgam of orphans, alpha/omega issues, juvenile criminal cases, and pretty much anything that involved minors, embracing both civil and criminal matters unless the crime was sufficient to try a minor as an adult. At one time, there had been a specialized alpha/omega court, but as the population had dwindled, so apparently had the need for a separate court. There had been an outcry about eliminating protections for differentiated people, especially omegas, in the process. When Steve had researched it online, he’d learned that the Greater New York Alpha Omega Benevolence Society had been in the forefront of the movement to close the specialized court. Which in turn lead him to believe that diluting the understanding of the needs of alphas and omegas had likely allowed the Pack freer access to snap up omega children, even when it was clear to a differentiated person that wasn’t in the best interests of those children. 

There were several judges who served in the Children’s Court, and there were other courtrooms that could and did host proceedings when needed. Isabelle had been insistent, however, that Judge Saperstein couldn’t be swayed by the Pack, and that she would very much have the best interests of the children in mind. Steve only hoped that she agreed that the best interests of these two children were best served by awarding custody to Steve and Bucky. 

The bailiff handed over the folder that their attorney, Vivian Alvarez, had prepared over the weekend, and submitted after a brief meeting with them before court. Lots of paperwork, a number of pages needing signature, and a few needing a notary seal, which surprisingly Happy had been able to provide. A short interview with the kids by themselves, a once over of Steve and Bucky (Ms. Alvarez thought the suits nice, but would have rathered something more informal, more TV-Dad image – so Pepper didn’t know _everything_ , apparently!), and then they were ushered into the courtroom, where they now sat waiting nervously. They were first on the docket, but it looked like Judge Saperstein had a busy morning ahead of her based on the number of people present in the petitioners’ area.

Steve was grateful she’d been able to fit them in, and he knew they had Isabelle to thank for that. He knew this was all very unusual, incredibly fast and abrupt, and that Isabelle had likely called in a lifetime of favors to get them on the docket today, to get the adoptions even considered this year, let alone this week. They had so much to thank Isabelle for. He nodded slightly at Isabelle as she stepped up to the bench to turn over her documents. He didn’t miss the raised eyebrow and subtle acknowledgement the judge gave Isabelle; he only hoped it was a good sign.

Vivian had confided that she’d researched Judge Saperstein, and had noted that she tended to align closely with the recommendations of CPS. Her focus was protection of the children, and acting not only in the best interests, but in the desires of the children she served. A little number crunching and pattern recognition later, Vivian had confirmed that Saperstein’s success rate was amazingly high – families that she put together legally tended to stay together, and if she awarded custody of children in divorce cases, she almost always backed the right parent, the parent most likely to put the children’s needs first. 

Steve still tried to calm his nerves, but he couldn’t help the litany of, “you’re not worthy, you’re not worthy” in the back of his skull. He willed his hands to relax and stop pressing into the ancient wood of the mahogany railing. Buck leaned forward in their row and held his hand out to Steve, and Steve grabbed on like he was on his last drag underwater. Jack looked up between the two of them, and ducked under their clasped hands, sliding by eel-like to take his seat on Steve’s other side, while Jasmine did the same to Bucky’s right. The two men slid together then, and each held out a hand to hold their kids’ hands. It took all of a few seconds, and they’d tried to be discreet about it, but the quirking smile Judge Saperstein tossed their way told Steve she’d caught the maneuver. And maybe she liked it? They’d know soon enough.

“All right,” she said in husky but business-like tone. “Rogers and Barnes petition the state of New York to adopt John and Jasmine Firth. Is that right, gentlemen?”

Steve glanced at Vivian, who nodded her permission for him to speak. “Um, yes, Your Honor, it is.”

“Well, good. Let’s have you up here at the table with your attorney, and let’s talk about why I should permit this sort of shotgun wedding.”

Oh. Steve hadn’t realized he was going to have to get up out of their seats and leave the kids on their own. He glanced at Buck, and his husband nodded him on, reaching for Jack to shuffle back closer while Steve accompanied Vivian to the table in front of the seating area. “No, husbands and kids, too. I want to see what you all look like together, and you’ll have to take the oath as well. Bailiff?” she motioned for the bailiff to position a couple extra chairs, so the entire family got up and took their places in front of the observers and Judge Saperstein. The bailiff quickly swore them all in with a single Bible they all touched and recited their oaths on.

“Okay. The petition notes that you’ve all known each other a very short period of time, less than a month. What’s the urgency?” she asked as she scanned down through the document. “Ah. John – may I call you John?” she asked, looking directly at Jack.

Jack tossed a panicked look at Vivian, who settled her hand on his forearm and nodded with a warm smile. He gulped and answered, “I prefer Jack. Ma’am.”

“Hmmph. Ma’am is my mother-in-law,” she muttered to herself. “Okay. Jack. Says here in the petition that you have a special need that necessitates the acceleration of assigning your legal guardian. The reason is written as part of the petition, so we don’t have to read it into the court record. But can you tell me in your own words why you think having Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes as your adoptive parents is a good thing?”

“Um,” Jack glanced back and forth between Bucky and Steve, swallowing thickly.

“Would you feel more comfortable if we met privately in my chambers, Jack? You and Jasmine?”

“Um, yeah?” He ping-ponged back and forth between Steve and Bucky. “Is that okay?” He looked at Vivian. “Is that okay?”

Vivian looked up at Steve, who nodded calmly, belying the volcano of nerves that just started spewing in his stomach. “Jack and Jazz have to speak for themselves. If they’re more comfortable talking to the judge privately, then they should. Go ahead, kids. We’ll be here.” 

It tore Steve’s heart out to watch the kids disappear into the judge’s chambers with Isabelle trailing behind, but if it meant they got through this faster and with the right end result, he was okay with it. Really he was. 

He and Buck sat there, quietly holding hands while Vivian checked through her notes one more time. “It’s just a formality,” she said matter-of-factly, not raising her attention from the papers. “Given Jack’s special circumstances, allowing him to discuss in private makes it less of a peep show for the masses.”

Steve nodded tersely, squeezing Buck’s hand. Buck placed his metal hand over Steve’s flesh and blood hand. “It’s all right, baby. She can’t help but notice how good you are for those kids.” Steve smiled and leaned his head toward Bucky to brush his cheek against his hair when Bucky suddenly sat rigidly upright, immediately becoming hyper-aware. “D’you smell that?” he demanded in an urgent whisper.

Steve started to say no, and then he caught the whiff. Another alpha. The scent was dry, sterile. Like winter air when it’s too cold for snow. Buck’s eyes were roaming the crowd and his lips flattened into a thin line. “Two o’clock, near the door.”

Steve glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of the guy. Tall, thin, ascetic-looking. Bald. Aquiline nose, high cheekbones. Expensive, custom-tailored suit that made Steve’s power suit look average. Roving, predatory eyes, and a distinct sense of entitlement.

“Pack, d’y’think?”

“Could be. We don’t know anything about them, but he looks like a shark, like he’s scented blood.” A look of dawning horror slid over Bucky’s features, and Steve knew that his face mirrored the expression. “Isabelle said the Pack’s got an army of lawyers.” He shifted toward Vivian and asked her if she knew the guy. 

She shot a quick look and nodded. “Dante Mineo. Top of his class at Columbia Law. Alpha. Leads up the Pack’s Legal team. Stone cold.”

For a moment, Bucky’s expression shuttered into the blank stillness of the Asset. A chill tickled along Steve’s spine at the sight – Bucky was in control, but if he let himself drop into Asset mode, this guy wouldn’t know what hit him. Stone cold had nothing on Buck when he let the Soldier loose.

“We gotta worry about him?” Bucky asked urgently.

“So long as Saperstein’s on the up and up, no. But why set you up with her if she’s gonna give the kids to the Pack? Stay calm, let’s see how this plays out. He could be here for someone else.”

“Doesn’t matter who he’s here for – the Pack doesn’t get any more kids,” Steve swore tightly. He felt Buck’s hand squeeze his. “Not ours, not anyone’s.”

&&&

“Okay, I think I see the whole picture now,” Judge Saperstein told Jack and Jasmine. “I appreciate your honesty. Why don’t you go back out to the courtroom and sit with your – with Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes? I need to discuss a few things with Isabelle before I reconvene.”

“When will we know? I mean, when will you let us be adopted by Steve and Bucky?” Jasmine stood her ground and demanded, even as Jack had his hand on the doorknob.

“Soon. I won’t make you wait. But I do have to discuss a couple of items with Isabelle. We’ll be out no more than 10. Okay?”

Jasmine’s chin jutted slightly as she considered the judge, and it looked like she might argue for a moment. Then she simply nodded and they left chambers to return to the courtroom beyond.

Saperstein dropped her face into her hand and massaged at her closed eyes.

“Cile,” Isabelle prompted from her seat.

“Izzy,” Saperstein responded, shaking her head. She raised her head and planted both palms on her desk, pushing back slightly to level a serious gaze on Isabelle. “You really think these two are gonna make a difference?”

“In the lives of those two kids, absolutely. Jack couldn’t be safer, and he’d be with a parent who understands intimately what he’s going through.”

“Yeah, I get that, I’m gonna okay the adoption. You knew I would. But the big picture – you really think they’ll be able to do anything?”

“If they can’t, who can? ‘Cile, think about it. They’re not going to sit still for injustice, are they? Not with their reps. Not with their history. And that’s just it – they have a unique history with the Pack, dating back to before the Society went wrong. They have resources – the financials on the two of them put them in the top 1%, and they’ve got Stark backing, too. They can afford the cost of taking on the Pack. And with Stark’s army of attorneys, the Pack isn’t going to get them to back down, either. And they can keep those kids safe.”

“Okay, say all that’s true. You say they haven’t had any exposure to the Pack in the present day. How are they gonna get into the compound? This has got to be clean, Izzy. No hint of entrapment. No engineering something fishy. It’s gotta be real. There needs to be probable cause. You know most judges won’t touch them, and I won’t sign any warrant that isn’t squeaky, squeaky clean.”

“Jack is only a few days away from his first heat. Barnes gave him an ointment to help with masking his scent, but there’s still something bleeding through – even I could smell it on him when I hugged him this morning. You don’t think the Pack’s sniffers are going to miss a kid like Jack?”

“It’s not like you to put a child at risk, Iz. You must be getting desperate.”

“Every kid that disappears into that compound is a failure. A betrayal. ‘Cile, this could be our only chance.”

Saperstein considered Isabelle for a long, silent moment, then she nodded. “Let’s get this show on the road. At least this decision is an easy one. The rest of your plan … I just hope you know what the hell you’re doin’, Iz.”

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, we get to see the Pack's minion in action for the first time. And everyone will get to see how not-meek an omega really is. There's none of that "weaker sex" and "ruled by biology" stuff here. :)


	12. Tell It to the Judge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky's first encounter with the Pack and their day in court. All that hangs in the balance is their happiness, their future. It's all in the hands of a judge. A judge who remembers a certain crush she had for a fallen hero from the War.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, some plot happens. This is one of those weird chapters that rattled around for a while in my head, until finally one of the characters raised their hand and said, "This is mine." And suddenly it made sense. Originally, there was going to be more grandstanding by a certain ex-assassin, but once I started writing this, it settled into a little more, well, Dad-like. :)

Judge Cecile Saperstein reentered the courtroom and made her way quietly to the bench where she reclaimed her seat. The Rogers-Barnes clan were talking amongst themselves in quiet voices as Izzy looked on fondly. Her old friend was betting the house on these two guys, that was certain. Well, they’d played worse odds in Atlantic City and come out on top before.

As she watched the nascent family, she could see the subtle shifts that indicated the formation of permanent bonds of affection – the gentle touches, the tender smiles, the trust in the eyes of the children, the adoration in the eyes of the fathers. They were already rewriting the genetic code of their relationship, redefining who they were to each other. Perhaps they had no history together, but they were committed to crafting a future. She smiled to herself. This was one of the good days.

She hadn’t signaled to the bailiff to call the court to order again yet, so she allowed herself to look, to observe. Cecile Saperstein allowed herself a moment to inwardly fangirl. 

Growing up in Brooklyn in the 1960s, like almost every girl of her age group in her neighborhood, she’d fallen in love with Brooklyn’s most beloved fallen War hero just like girls elsewhere in the country had fallen for Paul and John, George and Ringo. The War had been a very present memory then, the baby boomers just starting to come of age, and young people who’d lived through the War to become parents were younger than she was now. Everyone knew the story, the young man who’d gone off to war as so many had, only he hadn’t come home. His loyalty had known no bounds, his heart had known no limits. He’d fallen, and the world had continued on, but in her neighborhood, people still remembered, even as the world forgot.

When she’d been a girl, the women in the neighborhood still remembered him with a flutter and a blush, his roguish charm legendary from the Heights to the Hook. Men remembered him as a good guy, with a ready smile, a friendly handshake, and a loyal heart. He’d been a fixture in the neighborhood in his day, and then in the newsreels sent home from the front. And then the crushing news of his loss. 

His face had never been on a local monument, but it had been hung proudly in bars and diners, it had adorned flyers posted in store windows, it’d held pride of place in the dance halls that converted from swing to twist to mashed potato, getting lost in the gradual transition to anti-Vietnam War protests, and dances that owed more to magic mushrooms than any form of organized movement.

In short, Cecile Saperstein, nee Rosenberg, had grown up in love with the story of James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes. She’d had his picture tucked into a little heart-shaped locket she wore around her neck until she was 20, taped a worn and much caressed photo up in her school locker, and secreted away a framed photograph under her pillow that she pulled out each night to press a perfect Cupid’s bow kiss in pink coral lipstick right on those plush, inviting lips. 

It didn’t matter that he’d died twenty years earlier – he was swoonably handsome, a local boy who’d left all the girls’ hearts aflutter back in the day, but always acted the perfect gentleman, whose friendship and loyalty knew no bounds, and whose legend grew more each passing day. James Buchanan Barnes had defined sex appeal and tragedy and the unattainable ideal of perfect manhood for her, and now he sat in her courtroom, his fingers twined with those of Captain Fucking America. The stunning news that the pair of them had been a couple back in the 1940s, had actually been bonded, alpha and omega – that had set everyone’s tongues a-wagging for a day or two, and then it all fell away like the white noise that it was. Just another reason to love the pair of them.

She allowed herself a small smile and lifted a finger to indicate to the bailiff that he could call the court back to order. Immediately, conversation halted, and like the good boys they were raised by the nuns to be, Rogers and Barnes turned obediently toward the bench and gave her their undivided attention.

Cecile would be lying if she didn’t admit she liked the idea that Bucky Barnes and Captain America were both looking at her like their very happiness rested on what she said next. Her smile widened slightly and she glanced around the room, feeling powerful and brilliant and everything that her teenaged self had longed for. And then she spied him, and her lips fused into a single, hard line.

Mineo. The Pack’s Shark.

Well, this just got interesting.

&&&

“Your Honor, I respectfully entreat the court to consider my petition to assume custody of one John Firth immediately,” Dante Mineo was saying in that urbane, smooth way of his. Cecile smiled sourly. She remembered him as a ruffian in the neighborhood, all scabbed knees and scraped knuckles, running packages for the local loan shark, threatening shop owners in his thick Brooklyn accent. Orphaned when his parents had been killed in a driveby by a rival organization, Dante had been taken in by the Pack before he’d reached his majority. He’d been one of the more fortunate ones, an alpha groomed by the Pack to excel at Columbia Law, slough off all trappings of his rough beginnings, and take his place as the head of the Pack’s very expensive, very extensive legal team.

He was thug before they pulled him off the streets. He was still a thug today, just wearing a better suit.

“On what grounds, Mr. Mineo?”

“On the grounds that the Society is best able to attend to the specific … needs … of young Mr. Firth.”

Shit. Cecile had hoped to keep Jack’s secondary gender out of the public eye, leaving it to the court record where it belonged. But Mineo’s assertion just forced her hand. She cast a an apologetic glance toward the boy, who looked nervously from the Stark attorney to Izzy, and cleared her throat. “And what needs would those be, Mr. Mineo?”

Jack sank into himself, lowering his face into his palm as Rogers and Barnes both sought to comfort him. Interesting, Barnes was the one to straighten first, his gaze sharp as he trained old eyes on Mineo. Well. Let’s see what there is to be seen, shall we?

“The needs of a presented omega about to enter his first heat, your honor. He belongs with his own people,” Mineo replied flatly, a hint of a sneer, a hint of deferral, and a hint of alpha command in his voice.

“His own people,” Cecile repeated cautiously, letting her eyes track back over to the Rogers-Barneses. “What people would that be, counsellor?” 

“Why, among other omegas, of course.”

“Counsellor?” she prompted to the Stark attorney, Something Alvarez. Vivian, that’s right. Right time in her court, she couldn’t be blamed for not remembering the woman’s name.

Alvarez leaned in to confer with her clients, and shook her head vehemently while Barnes half stood from his chair. She scrabbled at his arm to pull him down, but he drew his arm away gently, resting his metal hand on Jack’s shoulder as he glanced at Rogers. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the look of trust and adoration on Captain America’s face, the way he placed everything in his husband’s hands, to do with it what he would.

“If I may, your honor?” Barnes asked, his voice carrying easily through the courtroom. Beside him, Vivian huffed out a sigh and settled back in her seat, toying with a pen. Jack looked up apprehensively, but the soft touches from Rogers seemed to calm him. If she hadn’t already planned to award custody, watching how Steve Rogers focused on that kid – on both kids – would certainly have swayed her.

Cecile realized the entire courtroom was waiting on her answer. “You may, Mr. Barnes,” she replied, blinking a few times to get her inner squee under control. He winked at her. He God’s-honest-truth winked at her. She felt her heart flutter dangerously – she was on beta blockers after all – but it wasn’t every day that your grade school crush winked at you. When you were nearly 60 and your wore your years with pride.

“What kinda family life you offering Jack?” Barnes asked, his Brooklyn accent suddenly thick and menacing.

“He’d be in a Society-sanctioned group environment, with others of his gender. With loving parents, I can assure you. Parents who will understand what he’s going through, and who can ensure that he’s well cared for, prepared. And exposure to appropriate alphas, with proper supervision, naturally.”

“Hmm,” Barnes replied, eyebrow arched dangerously. Cecile shook herself. There was nothing menacing about an eyebrow. And yet Barnes made his eyebrow look like it could do murderous things. “I understand what he’s going through. My husband and I can offer him a loving environment among ‘his people.’”

“I hardly see how –“

“Have you heard of us, Mr. Minnow, is it? James Buchanan Barnes-Rogers. Omega,” he gestured toward himself. And then nodded toward where Rogers sat with his arm around Jack’s shoulders. “Steven Grant Rogers. Alpha.”

“Well, Counsellor, I don’t see that the Society offers a superior situation for Jack. The Rogers-Barneses – er, Barnes-Rogers?” she corrected herself at the sudden glare from Barnes, “family is an established alpha-omega bonded pair.”

“The Society has significant resources to see to John’s comfort and security –“

“Yeah, we live in Stark Tower. And last I checked, Stevie and me, we’re worth a bundle.”

Masking a grin by lifting a page of their dossier to pretend to study it, Cecile offered, “Mr. Barnes and Mr. Rogers’s assets are considerable, Counsellor. In fact, I would suggest they are considerably deeper than the Society’s.”

“We have deep roots in the Alpha-Omega community, in the history of New York –“

Barnes pulled out his wallet and fingered through it to pull out a card which he thrust in Mineo’s face. “Us, too. Been a member since 1932.”

“Mr. Barnes, approach the bench, please?” Cecile commanded, her heart beating fast. Down girl. He’s a married man. You’re a married woman. It would never work out.

A girl can dream, even when she’s no longer a girl to the world outside her head.

Barnes came up to the bench and passed over the card when she gestured him to. It was brown with age, the ink – from an old fountain pen, perhaps – faded to a soft blue. The photograph was grainy and dark, but the card was clearly the Greater New York Alpha Omega Benevolence Society membership card of one James Buchanan Barnes.

“Let the record show that Mr. Barnes presented his membership card, issued in 1932, from the Greater New York Alpha Omega Benevolence Society.”

“Buck, you found your membership card?” Rogers said, shocked. “How –“

“In the Smithsonian shit,” he shrugged, then his eyes widened and he scrambled to apologize. Cecile waved him off.

“So, similarly gendered with personal experience of an omega heat, sufficient financial wherewithal to ensure the best education on the planet for Jack Firth, living in a Tower that stood up to alien attack, with parents whose connection to the city – and your own Society – dates back nearly a century. And who both already died for this country. At least once. Have I missed anything, Mr. Mineo?”

If Cecile didn’t know better, she’d swear Dante Mineo, Esq., was chewing on broken glass. His expression was so sour, so full of disdain and loathing, Cecile felt like the air around him became tainted, poisoned. He ground his teeth, his jaw bunching with the pressure, and then shook his head once, tersely. “No, your honor. I withdraw my claim on behalf of the Society.”

“Fine, then. Mr. Barnes, you may sit, please.” Before he did, though, Mineo came right up to him, into the personal space of the famed Winter Soldier, and materialized a business card with a flick of his fingers. She couldn’t heard what was said, but her heart raced at the thought that this might be it. The in they’d been waiting for.

“Mr. Mineo, if you’re going to have a conversation in my court, I expect you to share with the record. If you please?”

Mineo turned back toward her, his jaw tight and his lips stretched a thin, flat line. His face radiated distaste. He still didn’t answer.

“If you please,” Cecile repeated, this time with steel in her voice. The threat was implicit. Answer, or find yourself in contempt of court.

“I said Mr. Barnes and Mr. Rogers will be expected at the Residence tonight at 8. It’s time they reacquainted themselves with the Society and its requirements. To keep their memberships in good standing, of course,” he added with a slight incline of his bald head.

Cecile caught Izzy’s sudden shift, their eyes meeting and locking triumphantly for a moment before Cecile looked away.

Izzy was right. These two were their access into the Residence, into the heart of the Pack.

“Well, that’s very nice,” she observed matter-of-factly, burying her excitement in the administrivia of her role as judge of this court. “Now that we’ve concluded that diversion,” she added, effectively banishing Mineo from her thoughts and rendering him unimportant – a move that wasn’t lost on the alpha attorney, who glared daggers at her a split second before he drew the curtain over his feelings to stare at her impassively. “It is the opinion of this court that full and permanent adopted custody of both John – _Jack_ – and Jasmine Firth be awarded to Mr. Steven Grant Rogers and Mr. James Buchanan Barnes-Rogers. Effective immediately.” She signed the order with a flourish and then handed it to the bailiff. “If you’ll follow the bailiff, you’ll be able to finalize the paperwork, and go out and enjoy an egg cream with your new family. Congratulations,” she added with a grin as the foursome took a moment to whoop it up.

Order in the court, indeed.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up ... dun, dun, dun! We meet the Pack. I am ridiculously excited about this, as I started writing the next sequence over a year ago, but couldn't share it until now. Soon, my pretties, soon!
> 
> Would love to know how you're feeling about the tale now ... comment me? Please? :)


	13. The Leader of the Pack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the court decision, Steve and Bucky prepare to be parents. But first, they have a command performance at the Pack residence, where they finally meet the Alpha of Alphas. And find themselves taking a little trip down memory lane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here we are, we finally meet the Pack! I wrote part of this chapter over a year ago, and I've been waiting to finally incorporate it into the ongoing story. There is more to come shortly, but with this chapter already hitting over 10,000 words, I hit a point that seemed a perfect - if cliff-hanger-y - point to break the chapter in two. I'm going to leave the chapter count as is for the moment, as we truly are coming into the home stretch. Hope you enjoy - and please don't forget to leave comments!

**Chapter 13: The Leader of the Pack**

Steve turned the card over in his hands, puzzling over its elegant but sparse lettering, the silky feel of its linen texture, the heft of it in his hands. This was a card meant to intimidate, to cow. A card with so little information on it, it was clear the holder wasn’t worthy to be privy to its secrets. A card intended only for those chosen to receive its wonder; anyone else was found wanting. Unworthy.

It was, as Buck had noted, manipulative bullshit.

He remembered having a conversation not long ago with Pepper about cards, and whether or not he should have one. She’d smiled at him, patted him on the shoulder, and informed him, “A card is for someone who’s afraid they won’t be remembered, Steve.” Then she’d gone on to point out that she never carried cards, and neither should they.

Did he not want to be remembered?

He glanced toward where Buck was still holding forth, still on a tear.

And then his eyes dropped to the heads of the kids, huddled together as they peered over Vivian’s shoulder. And he realized he didn’t care who else remembered him. All the people who mattered were here, or in the Tower. 

He flicked the card over and shoved it in his pocket, shoved it out of his mind.

After that strange encounter in the courtroom, they’d been ushered – the entire family – by the bailiff to another room, a smaller, more intimate, warmer space, to go over paperwork. Vivian looked over everything quickly but carefully, answering questions from Jazz and Jack, while Isabelle had fluttered nervously around the fringes. Steve found that odd – the entire thing had been orchestrated by Isabelle, and yet she seemed worried about something. Like she was expecting failure, like she was expected something catastrophic to go wrong.

The idea chilled him, filled him with a trepidation unlike anything he’d ever known. No, he’d known it once. Facing a future without Bucky. And history knew how that ended. Or maybe history hadn’t understood how that ended. 

He had no plans to face a future without their kids, any more than he’d face a future bereft of Bucky. He’d done it once, and the memory of the void still haunted him.

But as he looked around him at Jazz and Jack, he felt a wave of overwhelming affection and protectiveness wash over him, a searing heat of determination. His fists instinctively tightened, and he willed them to relax, trying to radiate calm to them both. Calm himself. 

Bucky, on the other hand, was furious. The dust-up with Mineo, the Pack lawyer, had really set him off. Buck had never liked alphas who tried to lord it over others, any more than Steve had liked bullies. They were really the same thing, and the Pack was every kind of wrong all rolled up into a bully every bit as bad as Schmidt and Zola had been. Pierce.

Their kids were safe. But what about all the others? And how long had this been going on? 

“How the f-er, fudge can they imagine they know what to do with a kid who’s got a secondary gender, huh? They don’t even understand it. They think it’s all sex and slick and animal crap. Like it’s all biological.”

“Isn’t it?” Isabelle asked curiously.

Buck stopped and stared at her, his lips parted as his eyebrows scrunched together. He shook his head vehemently. “Hell, no. Biology is something anyone can overcome. Biology doesn’t define us – it’s what’s in here, our characters, our souls. We’re not slaves to instinct, not slaves to our reproductive organs, any more than any human is, male, female, alpha, omega. People choose to give into it. People choose to exploit it. People choose to let assholes rule so women get blamed for what they wear, when the problem is the asshole who couldn’t be bothered to keep it in his pants, who couldn’t control his rage. Who didn’t even bother to try.”

“Well, then, I don’t see the issue – that was in part the argument the Society made to eliminate a separate alpha/omega court –“

“And that’s the problem. By eliminating a separate court, there’s no one who understands that what he proposed was the worst kind of idea. Omega kids don’t belong in that kind of controlled environment, shut away and allowed to see only ‘appropriate alphas’. That’s arranged marriage shit. _Worse_ ,” he added with a guttural growl that made Isabelle flinch, and Vivian look up from the paperwork.

“Worse?” Isabelle squeaked, her hand fluttering toward her throat.

“Worse,” Bucky repeated flatly, and Isabelle paled. But not as much as someone who’d never entertained the thought of … that. He felt Jazz and Jack shift, saw Jazz’s hand close over Jack’s, his fingers instinctively tightening around hers. Aware, and Steve shot Buck a look. Back off. Don’t go into detail. _Think of the children._

Steve didn’t like to think of it himself, didn’t like to remember the rich men who’d come to the orphanage looking for a _special_ omega boy or girl, to take home. To take …

He remembered their eyes on him, hungry, wanting, nostrils flaring to catch the scent of the omega everyone – including he – had believed he’d become.

He remembered those greedy eyes turning to Bucky, those lips parting as they caught his scent. Beautiful, confident, bursting with life Bucky, his scent vivid and as alive as he was.

He remembered the nuns around the perimeter of the parlor, watching, vigilant, thin-lipped, implacable. He remembered the nuns had politely but firmly declined and escorted the rich men seeking omega companionship to the door, each and every time. He remembered the nuns kept watch for those rich men, had instructed Mr. Wilkes to bar the door to them. The nuns reported those rich men to the Benevolence Society.

The Benevolence Society that had become the Pack. 

The Pack that plucked unprotected omegas from their families and hid them away from the world, to be seen only by “appropriate alphas.”

_Oh_.

If Steve had felt chilled before, now his blood thickened with ice, and something slid over his heart and squeezed. Seventy years and more slid away as Steve felt himself slip back into the halting breathing of his youth, the arrhythmia that stuttered his heart.

Was that how the Pack was born? Those rich men with their hungry eyes, their sweaty palms, their rancid scents, and their _desires_?

Steve felt a wave of nausea rise up and nearly choke him before he swallowed it down, focused on his breathing and lock the inner turmoil away.

_Had they been a part of this?_ his traitorous mind demanded. Had they helped create this thing that their children feared?

“Stevie?” Buck’s voice cut through the haze, pulling him out of his own head and dragging him in to the present. “You with us, babe?”

Not now, he reminded himself. Not in front of the kids. The kids. He glanced down and drank in the sight of them. _Their kids._ He raised his eyes to Bucky and shook his head, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall.

“Yeah, sorry, wool-gathering. What were you saying?”

“Uh-huh. I was telling Isabelle here that putting omega kids into a segregated environment is not allowing them to find out who they are, and develop normally, be normal. Best thing for Jack will be to go a school where he’s just one of the kids. Learn to get along with everyone, learn when to fight for what’s right. Not just how to defer to an alpha.”

“And a separate alpha/omega court would have recognized that,” Isabelle concluded softly. Buck nodded, resting his hand on Jack’s shoulder reassuringly. 

“You don’t isolate omega kids. You don’t elevate alpha kids. They have to learn to co-exist, not only with each other, but with single-gendered kids. With _people_. They gotta learn how to work together, how to respect one another, how to be part of a larger community. How to be human.”

“ _You_ were isolated,” Jasmine said, looking up from where she’d been doodling on her phone.

“Nah, I wasn’t isolated, I just could choose to sleep in a different dormitory when I got older. We weren’t separated from everyone else during the day, during the evening. Just at bedtime, and that was voluntary. And the nuns knew not to teach us to bare our necks and beg to be marked by any ole’ alpha. They taught us to stand up for ourselves, to be self-reliant. I’m no better or worse than any alpha, not because of me bein’ an omega.”

“Honestly, you’re better’n any alpha I ever met, Buck.”

“Yeah, yeah, punk,” Bucky countered, the affection in his voice clear.

“So you were never required to be separate from the other boys?” Isabelle asked curiously. 

“Never required, no. Could be if I wanted to, so I did it during my heats, only then. I had the option of going somewhere private.” Steve’s eyes widened as he wondered if Buck was going to admit that he never spent a heat alone, that Steve had always been with him doing whatever he could to relieve the heat symptoms. That they’d gone to the edge of bonding more than once during those heats in the private room, tangled with each other, breathing in each other’s scents … He didn’t want to get into _that_ talk with the kids right now, that was sure. 

So he wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or scandalized when Buck asked Jasmine, “Do you like to have some me time once a month?” he asked with a quirked eyebrow, and Jasmine blushed and ducked her head, as Jack nudged her with his elbow. Steve resisted the urge to facepalm.

“Good thing you met us before then – you wouldn’a wanted us after!” Jack snickered.

“Yeah, well, we’ll see what you’re like when you have your first heat,” Jasmine countered, popping her elbow into Jack’s ribs. “You guys may be sorry you ever said yes to us,” she added, glancing at the arrayed paperwork.

“’S’not signed yet,” Steve pointed out with a chuckle even as his heart clenched at the idea of saying no. He could never say no to these two, any more than he could say no to Buck. But still, it wouldn’t be good for anyone to know how firmly they’d already wrapped him around their little fingers. “You may wanna go easy there, Jazz.”

“Nah, you love us,” she grinned at him, nudging him with her shoulder. 

Yeah, so much for that idea.

He smiled sappily at her. “Yeah, I kinda do,” he admitted softly. And the fond glance she graced him with made him feel light, floaty.

“Getting back to knowing what these kids need,” Isabelle interrupted. “Maybe when you get settled, you might consider becoming a consultant to the court? To CPS?”

Vivian looked up at that, her perfect features pinched with concern. “There might be some unacceptable liability there. I think that’s something you’d want to avoid, Mr. Barnes.”

“I think if somebody don’t start standing up for these kids, putting their needs first, there’s gonna be hell to pay,” he pounded his metal fist into his flesh palm for emphasis. 

Was Steve a pervert for being turned on by the sight of his husband preparing to do battle on behalf of kids everywhere?

He shifted a little to relieve the sudden pressure in his groin, and fought down the blush that threatened his cheeks, grateful for the distraction that Vivian suddenly offered.

“Be that as it may, I think there’s a document ready for your signatures,” Vivian announced with a triumphant smile, flipping to an appropriate page and holding a pen out to Steve.

Steve took the pen and glanced at her as she nodded, then at Bucky, who suddenly stopped pacing and was grinning wildly at him. “We’re really gonna do this,” Steve breathed, and Bucky was suddenly right there with him, his hand on Steve’s shoulder. Steve nodded once, and put pen to paper. Then he handed the pen to Buck, who leaned over him to sign in the designated spot. Vivian then paged through the document to present a second page for signatures. Bucky signed first, then handed the pen off to Steve for his signature.

“Okay,” Vivian announced, pulled the document toward her, signing on one of the witness lines, then pushed the document to Isabelle, who signed on the others. “All we need now is the signature of the judge, and it’s all official.”

“You mean we’re legally a family,” Bucky said softly, his fingers digging into Steve’s shoulder. In the best possible way.

“Legally and binding. I gotta say, you kids are lucky,” she softened then, glancing at the children who smiled back at her.

“We kinda know,” Jasmine admitted, knocking Jack’s shoulder with her own. “I’m totes gonna be BFFs with Pepper,” she added with a saucy grin.

“Yeah, and I’m gonna apprentice with both Tony Stark _and_ Bruce Banner. That’s like winning the lottery _and_ the Publisher’s Clearing House prize, geek style!”

“Geeze, I guess we don’t count, huh? You only love us for our friends,” Bucky complained, a mock-bitter tone to his voice.

“And your pancakes. Don’t forget the pancakes,” Jasmine teased with a giggle.

Vivian looked up at Steve and Bucky with a, “See what you got yourselves into?” look, but they just chuckled. Steve didn’t know if he could contain the fullness of his heart, to be honest, so he didn’t say anything, just grinned.

“So … I guess we wait until the judge has a minute free …?” Bucky prompted.

“I’ll let ‘Cile know,” Isabelle offered, hurrying out of the room.

Bucky watched her go, shaking his head. “She seem weird to you?” he asked Steve.

Steve stared at the door for a moment, then shook his head. “Maybe we’re imaginin’ things, huh? I mean, this is what she wanted, right?” Steve asked, as much to convince himself as to convince his husband.

“Yeah,” Bucky replied dubiously, but pressed his lips to Steve’s temple reverently. “Judge signs, and it won’t mean shit, anyway. Kids are ours.”

“Til the end of the line.”

“Puberty an’ all.”

&&&

The judge signed off on the adoption papers, and Vivian congratulated them on their new legal status, while Happy stood to the side with his hands clasped sedately in front of him, and his face split in a big old grin. Bucky liked Happy. He didn’t hold back. Never treated him like glass, and always slipped his flask to Bucky when he seemed overwhelmed. 

Right now, he looked like he was gonna bust a gut, he was so proud of the Barnes-Rogers clan (yeah, if Bucky said it enough times, it was gonna stick, God fucking dammit). So when they all filed out of that little claustrophobic room, Vivian going her way, Isabelle pulling the judge off for another confab, and the four of them standing there like mooks, Bucky knew what he had to do.

“Happy, watch the kids for us for a few minutes?” he asked, not stopping for an answer while he grabbed Steve by the bicep and dragged him off to the privacy of a marble-lined alcove.

“Buck, what the hell –“

“Spill.”

“Wha–“ Steve sputtered, but Bucky recognized the delaying tactic for what it was.

“ _Spill._ Something’s bothering you, got you all fucked up – don’t deny it, I saw you go away in there. _What_?”

Steve frowned, dragging a slab of a hand over his face before he shook his head. “Okay. Remember those toffs who’d come to the orphanage? The rich alphas?”

“The ones lookin’ for a sweet little omega to call their very own?” Bucky replied, his sweet voice dripping with venom. “Yeah, what of it? Sister Ignatius sent every last one of ‘em packin.”

“She reported them to the Benevolence Society, yeah.”

“Yeah. Yeah, so – _oh_ ,” Bucky put two and two together and got sick. “You think – you think that’s how it started? Those men? What, they bought their way into control of the Society? Geeze, Steve. That would mean –“

“I dunno for sure – it just occurred to me. And it made me sick to think that maybe we were, y’know, helping them. Do that. To other kids.”

“Pepper said that the Society started changing during the War, and especially after. Geeze, I hope you’re wrong, but whether it started then or it started later, it’s ending.”

Steve fished out the card that lawyer asshole gave him again and held it up for Buck to see. Bucky’s eyes settled on the creamy card as he felt anger well up in him. He took the card in his prosthetic hand and crumpled it. “Eight o’clock, huh?”

“Yeah. Whadya think?”

“I think we need to pay the Pack a little visit. Show ‘em how it’s done back in the old neighborhood. Whadya say, doll? With me?”

Steve just smirked at him, closing his hand over Bucky’s fist.

To the end of the line it was, then.

&&&

The rest of the day was one milestone after another. Happy took them to see their old foster family, and the kids spent a while packing up their shit while Steve and Bucky were entertained by their foster Mom, Tess as she begged them to call her. She was a sweet kid, and they could see she was sad to see Jazz and Jack go, but the fond way she rubbed circles into her belly, the way she held herself told them more eloquently than words just how much she was looking forward to having a child of her own. Bucky watched her with a distant sense of not-quite-envy, more a, “that could have been me,” not an “I wish it was me.” He’d made peace with his decision, and he knew that Steve had, too. They’d been visited with enough horrors in their lifetimes. They didn’t need to gift those horrors on a child.

And yet, Bucky never doubted their decision to adopt. He knew they’d make great parents. They’d both known love from their own parents, Bucky with both his Mom and Dad, and Steve with his Mom Sarah. The care and affection of their parents had burned so bright, it had kept each of them warm in the long years in the orphanage after each had lost their folks, then on their own, into the war, and even until now, as they embarked on their own family. They had so much love to give because they’d both been taught to love.

Tess remarked on how happy they both looked, how happy the kids both looked. “I’m glad you found each other,” she told them shyly. “I’m so grateful to you.”

“If we hadn’t come along,” Bucky started, then shook his head. This wasn’t the occasion for a pointless confrontation.

“What would we have done? We’d’ve tried to keep them together, I think. They really are great kids, despite the baggage. But no one knew about Jack’s, well, his condition, back when he first came to live with us. I worried we wouldn’t be able to do right by him, since neither of us are, well, like you. It’s so much better for him to have someone who understands, who can help him deal with everything. You know?”

Bucky nodded, and Steve slid his big warm hand over his. “”Isabelle asked Buck if he’d like to be a consultant to the agency. For kids like us, like Jack,” Steve informed her proudly.

“Thinkin’ about it. Haven’t made a decision yet,” Bucky grumbled, but inwardly, he was pleased to hear Steve speak so highly of the idea. He knew in his bones that it was something he needed to do. And he was doubly pleased to see how Tess lit up at the idea.

“That’s really what they need. Someone who can be an advocate, a guide. I shudder to think what would have happened if Jack had – what do you call, ‘present’? Yeah, if he’d presented before he was placed with us. If the Pack had gotten their hands on him … and we were starting to worry they might try something while he was with us, try to take him away –“

“They tried. Today. In court. Judge overruled them. Now the kids are ours, fair and square. Completely legit and legal,” Bucky grinned.

“And we’re going to a diner to celebrate. Food seems to be an important currency with these two.”

“Oh, don’t I know it! Stock up on maple syrup, that’s my best advice to you.”

“Pancakes?”

“Pancakes times ten,” she agreed, chuckling.

&&&

Tess begged off on joining them for their celebratory lunch, citing fatigue. It had already been a big day for her by the time the kids had arrived, and everything had gone well at her appointment. But the exertion to get there and back, and then the emotional toll of saying goodbye drained her. So she extracted a promise from both of the kids to keep in touch, e-mail and Skype, and Jasmine made her swear that she let them know when she was on her way to the hospital. Steve and Bucky were sincere in their thanks, and neither one of them were expecting the fangirl squee that slipped out of her when Steve bent down to kiss her on the cheek. He made her promise to let them know if she needed anything, and she nodded affirmative with stars in her eyes.

Then they were off to the diner, where the kids managed to sock away an impressive quantity of food, followed by waffles and ice cream. The kids fell into food comas on the way back to the Tower, and when they arrived, Steve and Bucky each took one of them in their arms to ride up to their floor, where neither of the kids stirred when they were placed gently on their respective beds. 

“Tomorrow we start focusing them on eating healthy,” Steve whispered as they met in the middle, each gently closing a bedroom door behind him. Bucky sauntered up to Steve, sliding his thumbs through the belt loops in Steve’s slacks, pulling him close.

“Whadoo we do in the meantime, huh?” he asked huskily.

“Dunno, got any ideas?”

“Oh, I always got ideas, doll. How much time we have?”

“Captain, Sergeant, I hate to interrupt, but you both have visitors on the public floor,” Jarvis interrupted before the festivities could begin.

Bucky sighed, closing his eyes to rest his forehead against Steve’s. “If it’s press, they go through Miss Potts, J,” Bucky answered a little desperately, his hands sliding from belt loops to butt, caressing possessively. Steve huffed a little chuckle but didn’t stop Buck’s wandering hands.

“It’s not the press, Sergeant. It’s the police, sir. And Ms. Elliott.”

“The fuck?” Bucky swore, all thoughts of canoodling off the table as he went into full alert mode, crossing to the elevator before he even realized he’d let Steve go , Steve crowding in right behind him.

“They say what they’re here for, Jarvis?”

“I’m afraid they did not confide in me, although Sir instructed I should allow them onto the public floor so he could ‘take a gander’. But I can say that metabolic scans show a distinct lack of aggression on the part of the officers. I might venture to say they are a bit excited – I understand that many people feel that way when they have the opportunity to meet you, Captain. You as well, Sergeant. Ms. Elliott, on the other hand, appears quite … nervous.”

“She’s been that way all day,” Steve said softly. “Somethin’s up, Buck.”

“Y’think, Stevie? Geeze!”

&&&

Happy drove them to the address on the card, crumpled and frayed though it already was. He paused at the massive iron gates and nudged the car up to the security checkpoint, where the guard peered from his stool inside the hut, into the recesses of the vehicles suspiciously. “Sirs are on the list,” he informed the guard cheerfully, tipping his chauffeur’s cap back jauntily.

“Sirs?” the guard repeated dubiously. “Name?” he added, casting his eyes down to the clipboard in his hand. He was a young man, maybe college aged or a little older, and the air of someone who was just clocking time until he could go home for the night. His name badge said, “Jenkins,” and his attitude said, “not a believer.” Happy didn’t know a whole lot about alphas and omegas, but he’d bet his last pack of gum that the kid would exit stage left if there was any kind of real confrontation – he didn’t feel like someone who’d fall on their sword for the glory of the Pack.

“So much security for an organization dedicated to public welfare,” a voice floated from the back seat of the car, and then the passenger section window nearest the guard slid silently down, and that rumpled card was extended between long, strong fingers. “We don’t want to cause a fuss,” the voice said as its owner stuck his head out and rested his arm on the door. Happy watched Jenkins’s face closely, and grinned to himself as the guard’s eyes widened comically, his mouth falling open in awe.

“You’re – you –“

“We’re expected,” Cap assured him kindly, waving the card. “If you wouldn’t mind?”

“Oh. My. God!” Jenkins swore, practically vibrating with excitement. “Look, I know this is probably inappropriate as fuck, but – geeze, would you mind takin’ a selfie with me? My brother’s never gonna believe this – he said this was a nowhere job, and look at this, I’m meetin’ Captain friggin’ America!”

Happy could hear Steve chuckle softly, a swish of fabric, and then a low-voiced question, “Whadya think, Buck? Should I?“

“Ah, give the kid a thrill,” Barnes answered magnanimously. 

“Why don’t you both? Not every day someone can claim they met the both of you,” Happy replied over his shoulder, nudging his car door open so he could get out and open the doors for “Sirs.”

“Yeah, sure. We don’t get out that often. Why not?” Cap grinned up at Happy as he opened the door for him, while Sarge just climbed out on his side and waved Happy off with a shrug. Happy nodded, and fell back, toward the guard’s kiosk, a button-sized comm device balanced on his fingertips. He backed up to the doorway, and while the guard was distracted with the wonder that was Captain America and Sergeant Barnes, he pressed the device into place so it would pick up any chatter from the guard’s hut.

In the meantime, both supersoldiers had slid out of the car, one on each side, and had come around to converge on Jenkins. They both looked like they’d just stepped out of an old movie, decked out in their WWII dress uniforms, and looking fresh-faced and impossibly young. Happy had to hold his hand over his mouth to smother the laugh that bubbled up at the boy’s goggling eyes and bouncing stance.

“You’re – oh my God, it’s both of you! My brother’s gonna shit himself! You sure this is okay? I mean, geeze, I –“

“Where’s your phone kid?” Barnes asked gruffly, but there was an undercurrent of humor and kindness in his voice. Jenkins whipped out his iPhone, staring starry-eyed at the erstwhile Winter Soldier. Barnes held the phone up for the kid to unlock the screen and then grinned. “I don’t have a bad side, but this mug here? He’s gotta get into just the right position to capture his good side. Howzabout you, huh? Which is your good side?”

“Geeze, I don’t even care,” he burbled as Cap and Barnes leaned in for their close-up and the kid hit the snap on the phone. A brief flare of the flash, and then he claimed one more before reluctantly stepping back. “Wow, I can’t thank you guys enough –“

“Hey, no, let’s get Happy to take another. Okay, Hap?” Barnes asked, bringing Happy back into the circle as he handed off the phone. Happy grinned as he slid a wafer-thin bug onto the phone case, a device so thin and transparent, no one would notice unless they were specifically looking for it – and they still might not find it. All courtesy of Stark Industries more private division, namely Tony himself. He made a show of figuring out the phone and when Jenkins was just about to break formation to show him how it worked, he clicked the exposure in rapid succession, taking several shots of Cap, Barnes, and Jenkins. Then Cap fished out his phone and asked him to take a couple of shots with his camera, and Happy took several more of the trio rapid fire, as well as the control panel in the guard building, and what he could see of the security setup.

“Aw, man! Could this night get any better? Seriously, thank you!” Jenkins was saying, toying with his clipboard and looking sheepish. “Could I, ah … could I ask one more thing? Autograph? Please?”

“Sure, hand it over,” Cap told him, and quickly upended a page to scrawl on the back. He handed it over to Barnes, who followed suit. “Actually, there is something you can do for us,” Cap interrupted gently. The kid stared at Cap like he was waiting on the word of God. “Think about working somewhere else. Soon.”

“Oh.” Light seemed to dawn then, and he shook his head. “I just work here at night so I can cover some of my college costs. Yeah, it’s not like they pay me a lot, and nothin’s ever gonna live up to _this_ , seriously! So, yeah, I got no problem with them. Not a lifetime commitment, neither. Shall I, you know, stick it out tonight, or you want me to ditch now?”

“Stick around tonight. There are likely to be some other visitors later on.”

“ _Not Iron Man_. Dude, that would be so awesome, I could die right now and be so friggin’ happy –“

“Not Iron Man. Well, maybe, but no guarantee. You’ll know who they are when they get here. _If_ they get here.”

“In the meantime, start workin’ on that resume,” Sarge told him with a rumble to his voice. The kid nodded like a bobblehead in a car with lousy suspension.

“Yeah, kid,” Happy chuckled, and held out a card of his own. “Not promising anything, but you could do worse than to apply at SI.”

Jenkins took the offered card and stared at it like it contained the mysteries of the universe. He grinned broadly. Then his eyes narrowed shrewdly. “I’ve been thinkin’ I need to book it outta here. Some weird shit going down. You here to dole out some old-fashioned justice?”

“As I said, son, we were invited. That’s all.”

“Yeah. Okay. Sure. If you say so.” His expression was serious as he unclipped his walkie and handed it over. “In case you need backup,” he added, and Happy could see the excitement had bled away, leaving the tightness of fear in its wake. But he was making it clear what side he wanted to be on, so Cap accepted the walkie with all the solemnity the gestured deserved. 

&&&

Buck was craning his neck to see up around the bend at Happy edged the car up the long – seriously, like halfway to Poughkeepsie long – winding driveway. “Shit, there’s still no sign of the fuckin’ house, Stevie. What the hell?”

“I’m guessin’ this isn’t how you remember the Society?” Happy asked from the front seat.

Steve drummed his fingers lightly on the door where he rested his arm. “I’ll say. We used to put in hours at the HQ to pay back the help they gave us with our rent when I’d get sick and couldn’t work. Down on Livingston, near the Municipal Building. Old storefront tucked in between a deli and a cobbler. Used to organize mail and stuff envelopes while Buck got stuck scrubbin’ the front steps with carbolic.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. Had the stink stuck up my nose for days after. And this one’d be covered in paper cuts. Looked like he’d bathed in blood from all the mercurochrome I’d have to daub all over his boo-boos.”

“Yeah, and every last one of ‘em stung like the dickens. You liked inflicting pain on me, Barnes –“

“Holy shit,” Happy announced as the car rounded a curve and the house was laid out in all its glory.

“ _This_ is the Society headquarters? You can bet there ain’t no benevolence doled out to the members if this is how the grand high mucky-mucks live. Shit!”

The palatial residence sat bathed in light from spotlights and landscape lights, two stories in the wings to the right and left, and three in the center section. If it were sitting on the street instead of nearly a mile away from the nearest public road, the house itself would be nearly two blocks in length. From the graceful marble columns bracketing the grand stairway leading up to the massive front door, to the story-high windows and curved balconies, to the carefully manicured lawn and sculpted shrubbery, to the crunch of seashells covering the epic sweep of the driveway, this place breathed money, old and influential.

Bucky whistled. “This ain’t right, Stevie. This ain’t right at all.”

&&&

Happy parked at the crest of the driveway, directly in front of the huge front doors. Ornately carved of a deep, satiny wood, held in place with brass hinges the size of a German Shepherd, the doors were meant to set a scale in which the visitor felt dwarfed to insignificance. They looked like they’d come directly from a Cecil B. deMille biblical epic. That would’ve been about the right time, as Jarvis confirmed the estate had been built in the early 1900s, the newly-minted “ancestral home” of a robber baron tycoon who’d made his money in railways, textiles, and grain alcohol. It was unclear how exactly the property had made its way into the possession of the Society, however. Jarvis was still searching poorly captured old public records, hunting the paper trail. Tracing the money.

“You sure you’re gonna be okay?” Happy asked as he opened the door for Bucky and Steve, standing back as they each unfolded themselves from the interior of the sedan. 

“Think we can handle a bunch of soft old toffs,” Bucky rumbled as he smoothed down the fabric of his uniform, twitching his tie into optimum position.

“I’ll be right over there if you change your mind,” Happy told him, tapping his earpiece meaningfully. 

Steve grinned at him. “We’ll be fine. You know what to do, Hap.”

&&&

“Ready?” Bucky asked, letting his organic hand tangle into the soft edges of Steve’s hair where it curled over his uniform collar. He smiled softly at his husband, his mate, drawing strength and offering it, a true perpetual motion machine fueled by their mutual affection and love. Steve smiled back, a small, private, gentle thing, and Bucky pulled him close into a kiss.

“Don’t forget to sell it, Stevie,” Bucky murmured against Steve’s lips. 

“Never have to fake it when I’m kissin’ you, jerk,” Steve replied, snaking a hand around his waist to pull him closer while his other hand found its way into Buck’s hair, where he messed up Bucky’s carefully coiffed do, and got in some good scalp massage while he was at it. Bucky wasn’t faking it when he sighed into Steve’s mouth, and he wasn’t faking it when he nipped at Steve’s lower lip, sucking it into his mouth and then running his tongue soothingly over the spot. And Steve sure as fuck wasn’t faking it when he groaned, deep and reverberating, fingers digging into Bucky’s ribcage, tugging at his hair. “Buck, fuck –“

“Like that, baby? Your fingers are so ungh!, I gotta up my game, don’t I, punk?” Bucky grinned as he closed his eyes and tilted his head to deepen the kiss. As their lips slid together, tongues mingling, hands caressing, they started up the stairs, never missing a step as their kisses became increasingly more heated.

By the time they reached the front door, Bucky was groping Steve’s ass, and Steve had Bucky’s tie undone, his collar pulled aside so Steve could suck little bruises down his neck as he aimed for the heady musk of Bucky’s scent glands. Bucky’s fingers plucked at Steve’s tie and popped open the top couple of buttons to his shirt, his fingers dipping under the fabric to massage at Steve’s own scent glands. Growling, Bucky buried his face against the hot, soft skin of Steve’s neck, breathing deeply and filling himself with the scent of his mate. He could hear and feel Steve doing the same against the juncture of his neck and shoulder. The sensation of scenting and being scented was intensely arousing, and he felt dizzy with want and need and love and ownership – Steve was _his_ , just as he belonged to Steve.

The landing was spinning around them when Bucky wrested his left arm from where it grappled with the marvel that was his husband’s chest. He held up his metal fist and wrapped against the heavy wood, splintering and denting it where the unyielding metal of his hand met the fragile fibers of the door. The sound reverberated in the night, and they could hear an echo of the sound tailing off on the other side of the door, just barely over the sound of their own sighs.

Bucky’s hand fell back to tease at Steve’s waist, where the uniform shirt was tucked neatly into his freshly pressed trousers. Bucky’s fingers tugged and pulled, drawing the shirttail up an inch at a time. Steve had already managed to manhandle Bucky’s shirt out of his trousers, and it hung half untucked on one side, and nearly pulled out on the other.

He didn’t have to touch Steve’s crotch to know he was every bit as aroused as Bucky was. He could feel the heat pouring off him, and he was half-drunk with the scent of his arousal pheromones. There was a strong undercurrent of possession, too, and that made Bucky feel warm and powerful. By now, everyone inside the Pack’s residence knew that a potent alpha was sporting wood for his equally turned on omega. Everyone knew they were here, that they belonged to each other, and they weren’t afraid. Everyone knew that the Pack held no power over them. 

Everyone knew that they had power. Their combined pheromones were like a carrier wave broadcasting power, possession, potency.

It wasn’t a conventional kind of greeting, but Bucky had no doubt that it was one no one inside the residence could ignore. And that’s just what they’d planned.

He felt it before he heard it, the sudden shift in the air as the door opened inward, and a presence appeared in the gap. His heightened senses immediately categorized the presence as non-threatening, and Bucky didn’t feel any need to break away from the wonderful things that Steve was doing with his lips and tongue.

A disapproving throat cleared, and Bucky held up one metal finger. Wait, dude.

Steve’s hand slid sensuously up Bucky’s arm to capture that upheld finger, twining his fingers with Bucky’s, and drawing the hand back down to rest on Steve’s ass, nudging them toward each other.

And there it was. The world’s most patriotic cock, standing at attention, just for him. He ground against Steve’s groin, feeling sparks and flame and suns exploding behind his eyes, saluting that cock with his own.

The throat cleared again, this time a bit thicker, a bit more … indisposed. Waiting Dude didn’t know how to use his words, and frankly, his disapproval didn’t mean fuck-all to Bucky or to Steve.

Bucky grinned against Steve’s lips, felt the flutter of Steve’s impossibly long lashes against his cheeks as Steve tilted his face to kiss Bucky hungrily, his hand pulling on Bucky’s hair, pulling his head back to expose more of his throat as Steve’s kisses moved off Bucky’s lips, leaving them feeling cold and lost. But Steve’s lips moved across Bucky’s jaw, swooping by his ear, and down his neck, to his shoulder, where Steve nosed and lapped at Bucky’s scent glands.

Bucky chose that moment to look up, open his eyes, and grin stupidly at the man who stood there awkwardly watching an alpha and omega couple in World War II dress uniforms take each other apart on the steps of the Pack residence. Bucky shrugged a, “What can you do?” shrug and rubbed his cheek against the top of Steve’s head while Steve growled into Buck’s scent glands. Bucky’s hand curved around Steve’s neck, and he pinched slightly to draw Steve back into the moment. Grudgingly, his mate lifted his face to nuzzle against Bucky’s neck and cheek.

“Hmmm,” he murmured against Bucky’s skin, the vibration sending another wave of arousal through Bucky. Then Steve straightened, acknowledging Waiting Dude by looking directly at him and saying, “We’re expected.” 

“And you are?” Waiting Dude asked. He was dressed in a morning coat, and was obviously the butler cum major domo.

Bucky just stared at Waiting Dude while Steve chuckled softly under his breath and arched an eyebrow. Neither of them spoke, although Bucky did make a half-hearted attempt to right his clothing, pulling his tie back over his shoulder so it hung half-undone from around his neck, and tucking his shirt back in. Steve moved his arm to drape it over Bucky’s shoulder, and leaned in to rub his cheek against Bucky’s.

They could outwait Waiting Dude.

Fuck, they’d outwaited whole lifetimes.

Waiting Dude could just wait.

Because, seriously. They knew they’d been invited for a royal audience, but there was no way they were dignifying that. They were there to make sure their kids were safe. That all kids were safe. No matter what it took.

And it gave them both a chance to cool down a little, although they both continued to broadcast a strong pheromone signal. Deliberately and with intent.

The staring contest dragged on a little longer, just becoming thoroughly stupid, when Waiting Dude just gave up. “Fine. Captain America and his omega.”

“Captain Steven Grant Rogers and his husband, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes,” Steve corrected with an ominous growl. His ominous growl was very different from his aroused growl. Even Bucky wasn’t keen on being on the receiving end of that one, and he seriously craved the other one.

And Waiting Dude gulped audibly, visibly, eyes widening. “Sirs,” he acknowledged nervously, stepping back to open the door wide and usher them into the heart of the beast. 

Yeah, that’s the stuff. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.

&&&

Steve and Bucky followed the major domo silently, outwardly calm. He might look disheveled and fucked out, but Bucky was on high alert, taking in every detail of their surroundings, assessing risks, targets, escape routes, hiding places for threats. He knew that Steve was too, and between Steve’s eidetic memory and Bucky’s superior combat sense, getting out of the Pack’s headquarters wouldn’t be an issue. But they had to make this visit count.

Steve was the man with the plan. Bucky was the mate with the great, or some such bullshit. Whatever, they were here to find out what exactly was going on, who was responsible, and put a stop to it. Once and for all. For the kids.

He could feel Steve growing restless beside him as they crossed the cavernous foyer of the mansion. He could feel his own hackles rising in response to the mass of alpha and omega pheromones swirling beyond the closed door ahead of them. Pheromones that they’d deliberately riled, pumping their own into the air in challenge. An assemblage of “differentiated” humans waited for them on the other side, a collection of bonded omegas, many of them pregnant, and alphas of varying degrees of hierarchy. And a scent, stronger than the others, that had Bucky frowning in almost-recognition.

“If you gentlemen will wait here, I will announce you,” Waiting Dude, the beta butler told them stiffly, and left them standing just outside the massive ebony doors separating the foyer from the room beyond. He didn’t go through the big doors, but through a smaller, more human-sized service entrance tucked behind a column. Hmm. The servants weren’t allowed to use the front door. This place was getting creepier and more socially unacceptable by the second.

Steve’s jaw set in that expression of righteous anger and justice-shall-prevail that Buck loved so much. If the situation weren’t so tenuous right now, he’d drag his husband into the nearest niche and start grinding on him. Again and with definite feeling. Fucking Steve when he was all warrior of God was one of Bucky’s favorite fucks. It was probably enough to spike his pheromone output again, and one glance at Steve showed him darkened eyes and parted lips, a hint of a pink tongue darting out to slide along that plush lower lip … yeah, Steve was hearing him loud and clear, and he probably wouldn’t resist if Bucky dragged him into a conveniently handy alcove.

Instead, Bucky drew himself up to his full height, did a quick check of the arm mechanisms, and held out his hand, palm up, to Steve. Steve glanced at the hand and smiled at Bucky, placing his own hand in Bucky’s grip. They clasped their fingers tight around each other, and nodded once to each other. Then the big doors opened outward, and they heard themselves being announced.

“Alpha Captain Steven Grant Rogers and his husband, omega Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, if you please.”

“Well, since they asked so nicely,” Bucky smirked at Steve, and was rewarded by the flash of a dimple and a steady gaze full of intent. Bucky was glad he wasn’t on the receiving end of that gaze. Then again, he had some intent of his own to deliver.

Hand in hand, Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes strode into the room exuding confidence, calm, and command. The room was a ballroom Bucky realized. A ballroom the size of a modern football field, all gleaming marble floor tiles, graceful columns, a ceiling a couple of stories high, and steel pike palisaded arena in its center, ringed by gilded chairs holding the fancy-dressed asses of hundreds of alphas and omegas, and illuminated by tall, slender pillars, each topped with a guttering torch. A faint odor of burning pitch lingered in the air. And at the far end of the arena, on a raised dais, sat a very old, very dessicated and bent man, his gnarled fingers grasped about the carved head of an ornate cane. The head was a wolf, clearly an alpha wolf by its size and ferocity.

The whole thing looked like it had been taken directly out of a Valentino picture, or maybe one of those DeMille epics. He glanced, around looking for the big-ass bass drum, some half-naked Nubian dude in a loin cloth and oiled pecs sounding out a cadence on the taut-stretched skin, with massive swings of his tree-trunk arms. 

Buck half-expected the color to suddenly bleed out of the room, leaving everything cast in shades of gray and black and white.

The arena area had arrow-tipped gates at either end, and both were open, leaving a straight path from the door to the old man. The butler gestured for Steve and Bucky to proceed through the arena. “Gentlemen, if you would please make your way to the dais.” 

Steve and Bucky glanced briefly at each other and Bucky nodded imperceptibly to Steve. His risk assessment was, even with the number of alphas and omegas in the room, even with the arena thing in the middle of the floor, even without Steve’s shield and any extra weapons, they would come out the winner in any conflict with this crowd. So they crossed the space in long strides, unhurried but purposeful.

They came to a stop a few feet from the dais, and one of the tuxedoed alphas rose and stalked forward to stand in front of them. “Kneel,” he commanded.

Steve and Bucky looked at each other, and Bucky couldn’t help chuckling. “Yeah, pal, that’s not gonna happen,” he answered with a smirk.

The strange alpha raised his hand and made to strike Bucky, and found himself trapped against Bucky’s chest in a chokehold with Bucky’s prosthetic arm pressed against his windpipe, and Steve’s hand wrapped around his wrist, grinding his bones together audibly. A choking, gasping sound burbled out of his chest, and Buck could feel the alpha’s jaw working impotently against his forearm.

“You do not raise a hand to my mate, or to any other,” Steve said quietly but firmly. Not a formal alpha voice of command, but the voice of Captain Rogers of the US Army, Captain America of the Avengers. It could be chilling in its own right, and it was then, so the alpha stilled in Bucky’s grip and nodded once, emphatically. Steve’s eyes flicked toward Bucky with a nod, and Bucky released the asshole and spun him back into his original location in one smooth motion, tugging his own uniform jacket back into position and falling back into parade rest at Steve’s side. The entire altercation took only seconds, but Buck could feel the frisson of fear, the flicker of interest, from the assembled alphas and omegas. Fear from the alphas, interest from the omegas. Hope, maybe?

A susurration of sound rippled around them, alphas shushing omegas, omegas asking questions, alphas pushing back, omegas rising to the challenge, tensions increasing as the cycle built on itself, mingled scents of frustration, anger, and fear whipping into a toxic miasma that almost overcame the bubble of shared arousal scent that he and Steve had raised before entering the mansion.

This place was totally fucked, really. Buncha nutcases, if you asked Bucky.

Steve was clearly aware of how quickly the situation was spiraling into a fuckfest, as he glanced at Bucky to receive a tense nod in reply. Steve stepped forward, holding his hand up to quell the rising sound. And amazingly, it suddenly cut off, leaving a ringing silence in its wake. The alpha who’d moved to strike Bucky glanced around nervously, as did the others surrounding the wizened old man, who frowned grumpily, but didn’t move.

“So you are the person in charge,” Steve commented, looking directly at the old man, challenging. Drawn up to his full height, shoulders back and hand still upraised, Steve was the picture of the perfect alpha. Bucky could feel the malevolence coming off the old codger, like waves of rot. And something else. That scent was driving him crazy – he recognized it, but it was subtly different, so he couldn’t quite place it. It would come to him, probably in the middle of a fuck, but it would come to him only if he didn’t worry at it.

“This is our _Alpha of Alphas_ ,” the asshole corrected archly, and Bucky could barely mask his snicker. 

“You gotta have an alpha over your alphas? What the actual fuck, dude –“

“It is tradition. You should show respect. You should know this.”

“Yeah, if you’re into bad dime novels. Ain’t been an alpha of alphas in New York since the 1700s. 1776, to be exact. Declaration of Independence put an end to the old ways. And the Constitution made it illegal for alphas to treat omegas as chattel, or to force an omega to breed without full consent.” Bucky could hear the stiffening among the alpha ranks, and the spike in interest among the omegas, a sibilant sound that rushed through the crowd like a sigh, more insistent and urgent than the questions and challenges that had spun through the room only moments earlier. He was onto something, he knew, and Steve just stood at his side, eyes shining with pride and love as Bucky pressed his advantage. This time, Steve let the outrage build, letting the assembled omegas turn Bucky’s words over and examine the truth of them. The whole thing would go down easier if they had the ear and the support of the omegas. Even better if they could sway some of the alphas as well.

Bucky turned and looked at the assembled differentiated. “What you’re doing to the omegas? The Pack, you alphas? Forcing children to breed? Taking kids and locking them away? It’s illegal. It’s immoral. And it’s gonna stop.”

The old man looked up and crooked a finger at someone else behind the dais, and a tall, ascetic-looking man in a severe black suit stepped around and looked down his patrician nose at Bucky and Steve and started to intone an argument heavily laced with legalese. 

Bucky cut him off. “Bullshit. You’re in violation of the Constitutional rights of these people. You can spin it all you like, but you are breaking the law, buddy. And you know it.”

The old man struggled to his feet, leaning heavily on the wolf-headed cane that he pounded once, twice, three times on the marble. “Enough!” he shouted. “Steven Rogers, you and your omega blaspheme! You will not allow your omega to speak thus to your Alpha of Alphas!”

“Bucky speaks for himself, he belongs to no one but himself!” Steve snapped angrily. “And he speaks the truth and you know it!”

The sibilance rose, heightened, excited, intrigued. Afraid. Some of the alphas murmured reassurances, while others grumbled hotly, trying to quell their omegas with harsh words and unkind touches.

“You will honor the Pack and pay obeisance to your alpha! On your knees, omega!” the old man practically screeched.

“My alpha is right here,” he nodded toward Steve. “I don’t pay obeisance to nobody, fella. I don’t care who you are –“ Bucky stopped suddenly, leaning in toward Steve to whisper in his ear, “Anything seem familiar about this set-up to you?”

“Buck, is now the time?” Steve whispered back doubtfully.

“Think so. Seriously, ringin’ any bells for you?”

Steve glanced around him again, taking in the ornate dais on which the old man – hell, he looked like he might be as old as Steve and Bucky were. Right, he was _their_ age, a contemporary. Okay. The whole thing smacked of high drama, melodrama even. Harking back to the old world ways of alpha worship and omega oppression, elaborate omega rape fantasies dressed in fancy clothes and luxurious, over the top and excessive trappings.

Kind of exactly like _this_.

“Them dime novel things, the ones that were practically alpha porn –“

“That Ralphie Patterson couldn’t get enough of, remember?” Buck murmured urgently. “That smell I keep smellin’ – it’s like his scent, only a little different.”

“Eighty years different?”

“Mebbe.”

“This is starting to make a weird kinda sense,” Steve said softly, and Bucky nodded decisively, and took a defiant step forward, elbowing the legal alpha and the asshole alpha out of his way to stalk up to the foot of the dais and glare into the surprisingly clear eyes of the hateful old man.

“So how does an unbonded omega become the alpha of alphas, Ralphie Patterson?”

“Watch your mouth, omega Barnes. I am the Alpha of Alphas – show your respect by getting on your knees,” the old man replied with steel in his voice, betrayed by a quaver and threadiness not surprising for his age. He didn’t deny he was the boy they’d known so many years ago. With a sickening lurch, Bucky felt like he was starting to understand how everything had gone so horribly wrong, if it had been guided by Ralphie’s pubescent fantasies.

“I ain’t gettin’ on my knees for anyone but my husband. Least of all _you_ , Ralphie,” Bucky declared, standing with his arms crossed over his chest, and his feet planted shoulder-width apart. “There ain’t no such thing as an alpha of alphas outside those dumbass pulps you used to sneak into the orphanage dormitory. The same ones Sister Augustine would tan your hide and wash your mouth out over and pray over your immortal heathen soul. Didn’t you learn anything?”

Ralphie, the so-called alpha of alphas, narrowed his eyes at Bucky and took a deliberate step forward. His face was twisted in a mask of pure malevolence. He took another step toward Bucky as Steve tensed up beside him. Buck held his hand out, staying Steve’s reaction. Ralphie stood at the edge of the dais, still elevated high enough that old and bent as he was, he still commanded the higher ground and Bucky had to look up to see his hateful gaze focus on him. His voice was pitched low, soft enough that only Steve and Bucky’s enhanced hearing could understand everything he said. “What I learned, _omega_ , is that a determined and clever man can remake himself into the image of the gods. If he’s smart enough to make opportunities and take advantage of them. And I have, for nearly eighty years. This is no longer your city. It is mine.” 

He stood there, hand resting on the head of his cane as he drew breath, expanding his chest and rolling his shoulders and relaxing his neck as he willed himself into stillness. It was weird, watching this very old man smooth out in front of his eyes, appearing to grow younger by force of will. A small smile curled the edge of his lips. “And you will _kneel_ before your alpha!” he commanded in a booming voice, an odd burr underlining the tone.

As one, every person in the room dropped to their knees, omega, alpha, and beta alike. The sound of all those bodies slamming to the floor was like a concussion wave from an explosion. The swish of fabric falling into place, and then silence.

Everyone was on their knees, except for Ralphie. And Steve and Bucky.

“I said, _kneel_!” Ralphie commanded again in that odd voice, slamming his cane down again against the marble dais.

And that’s when Bucky placed it.

Electronically enhanced. Simulated alpha voice of command. Everyone here reacted like it was the real thing. Conditioned response, no doubt, because it might sound similar, but it wasn’t the real thing. Not by a long shot. But these people had been trained to believe it was, and so they reacted to it as if it was really a compelling alpha command.

Steve turned and looked around at the cowering people, heads bowed, hands clasped before them, knees square on the floor. Young, old, alpha, omega. Hale and infirm.

Steve glanced toward Bucky, his lips drawn thin with anger. Nostrils flaring, Steve, raised his eyes to look directly at Ralphie, his expression grim. 

“Get up,” he said without raising his voice, but pitched so that his words would carry clearly, laced with the power of a true alpha voice of command.

The effect was immediate. Everyone on their knees was suddenly standing, muttering amongst themselves. 

“They’ve probably been told that only Ralphie has the voice,” Bucky whispered to Steve.

“I’m counting on that,” Steve whispered softly back. Then, in that calm, power-laden voice, he added, “Be seated. Be comfortable.”

Ralphie’s face twisted with rage as everyone settled comfortably in their seats, including his lackeys – even asshole and legal. “You dare challenge me? You think you are my equal? Fine, we will handle this as tradition dictates. Trial by combat. Pick your champion, Steven Grant Rogers. Oh, it must be your tame omega. Too bad. My champion is the former heavyweight champion of New York – an alpha, of course. Into the arena!” he commanded, returning to his seat on the dais.

Steve glanced at Bucky, but Bucky just grinned, undoing his tie, then shrugging off his jacket and pulling off his shirt. He handed them to Steve, who folded them over his arm to hold them for Buck. Bucky was only faintly aware of the audience’s reaction to his arm and the gnarled, reddened flesh that still stretched from shoulder to waist on his left side. He’d grown accustomed to it years ago, and Steve never treated it like anything other than a part of him. So if the toffs in the cheap seats didn’t like it, fuck ‘em.

He joined the alpha in the arena and the gates were locked on both sides behind them. He held out his hand in greeting to the alpha, who looked at it confused. “Bucky Barnes. I recognize you – Joe Gambone, right? Steve and I caught a couple of your bouts before you retired. Thought you were going to go all the way.”

Gambone just stared at Bucky’s hand, his brow furrowed. “Alpha said to stay close to home, couldn’t cross him,” he said simply, still frowning.

“Here are the rules,” Ralphie was saying, projecting his voice, still buoyed by that electronic undercurrent. The faux command voice. “There are no rules, except one. Fight. To the death _.”_

The impact on Gambone was instantaneous and horrific. His face morphed into feral rage and he lunged for Bucky’s throat, hands extended like claws, mouth open, jaws snapping, going in for the kill.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know. Duhn-duhn-duhn! 
> 
> Obviously, more to come. Soon. I'm pounding through it as fast as I can. I want to get to the good stuff. Yes, post-mission husband wrestling, complicated by the presence of teenagers. Oh, the humanity!
> 
> Ralphie really is a reprehensible putz, isn't he? He's every smarmy, squirrelly, creepy dude ever, all rolled into one foul poor excuse for a human. And his back story is only going to get worse.
> 
> But BAMF Bucky Barnes! 'Nuff said. 
> 
> Comments? Please?


	14. Dance with the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More is revealed. A fight happens. A legacy is destroyed. And a combatant experiences an unfortunate boner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is definitely a chapter inspired by comments. Thighs of Death! Unfortunate boner! Other stuff! And more to come ... :)

“Here are the rules,” the old man’s voice said, augmented by an electronic buzz. “There are no rules, except one. Fight. _To the death.”_

Isabelle Elliott gasped as Captain Olivia Benson of NYPD’s SVU swore under her breath, “We’ve got to get them out of there before someone gets killed.” She started to pull out her phone to mobilize her unit, but Tony Stark stepped into her field of view, shaking his head.

They were assembled in one of Tony’s many workshops, this one dedicated to communications, and they were eavesdropping on Steve and Bucky’s visit to the Pack residence by way of subdermal communications devices each had implanted behind their ears. The devices were prototypes Tony wanted to test before deploying on long-term missions, and Steve and Bucky were the real challenges to success. Their serum-fueled healing factors would likely push the devices up and out of their skin in several more hours, but in the meantime, they could hear everything the two men could hear, and everything was being recorded by Jarvis. That was long enough, Tony had thought, to take care of business. He’d just wished he’d perfected the optic implant so they could see what was happening, too. Or Barnes had been willing to field test his current model. So what if he wanted to poke the supersoldier’s eye with something pointy? He was trying to develop something with a strong signal without all the unpleasant memories of the Centipede ocular implants. Progress, baby.

But, he digressed inside his own head. Within a nanosecond while everyone in the workshop turned their attention toward him, instead of the radio drama being transmitted in stereo through Barnes’ and Rogers’ comms.

“Everyone” was afore-mentioned Captain Olivia Benson, Isabelle Elliott, Bruce Banner, Pepper Potts, and their amiable and mega-sexy host, Tony Stark.

And while the old coot in the mansion had made a melodramatic pronouncement worthy of Snidely Whiplash about fighting to the death, the sounds coming through the communications array indicated that Barnes and his opponent were still very much alive. And Barnes was winning.

So Tony had no hesitation to block Benson from fouling the whole thing up. “Hold on,” he warned. “Mrs. Cap may not be an active Avenger, but that’s his choice. I’d have him on the team any day of the week if he wanted to be there, but he doesn’t. He helps out in other ways – dude’s the world’s leading authority on designing security systems. Seriously. Even I can’t break them. But what you’ve got there is two of the strongest, best fighters in the world. On the inside, where you can’t go. No need to overreact. Let’s see how this plays out.”

“I can’t risk civilians, especially not children –“ Benson started to protest, but she settled back in her seat to await Stark’s response. And all of them continued to listen in. Barnes wasn’t even puffing, even as they could hear the grunt of pain from Gambone.

“Tony,” Pepper said, curling her fingers around his forearm. “Are you sure?”

“Pep, my love, my one and only – who would you bet on? A has-been that coulda been a contender and gave it up because some moldy old dude told him to, or the ex-Winter Soldier, scourge of the Cold War, and newly minted father figure to those surprisingly adorable teenagers down on the Rogers-Barnes floor? You heard him earlier – he’s only doing this to protect the kids, the people who’ve been enslaved by the Pack. I sure as fuck wouldn’t want to be the person who pulled him out before he got all the dirt so you can put this bastard down.”

“Well, when you put it that way …” she smiled. “But the possibility for collateral damage –“ a crash and a clang of metal punctuated her concern, but Tony just shrugged.

“Cap will contain it,” Bruce asserted from the sideline. “So will Barnes. I agree with Tony, my money’s on James here. Even un-enhanced, Barnes is a formidable opponent. Like he’s said, you can’t define him by his biology. The fact this guy is a trained alpha doesn’t mean anything. And James Barnes will do anything to protect innocent civilians. It’s why he’s there in the first place.”

Benson looked to each face in turn, her attractive features drawn in thought. In the background, they could all hear the rapid fire rain of blows, a pithy epithet from Barnes, an encouraging, “That’s it, Buck!” from Cap. Finally she looked at Isabelle inquiringly. “This is your op, Iz.”

Isabelle nodded. “We’ll never get this close again. We can’t waste this opportunity. I agree. Bucky isn’t in imminent danger, and he and Steve will do what they can to ensure no one else is, either. Hell, we’ve learned more about the inner workings of the Pack in the last ten minutes than anyone’s been able to uncover in two generations. We can’t turn back now.”

“I agree with Ms. Elliott,” Jarvis announced suddenly from his position surrounding them, the sounds of the fight across town acting as a oddly rhythmic background noise. “I have initiated a search for a Ralph Patterson, born in New York City sometime between 1916 and 1920. He is, apparently, a contemporary of Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes. Ah. I have located him. Collating now … He was born to Elyse and Stanley Patterson in 1919 in the borough of Brooklyn. His father died following the Wall Street crash in 1929 – apparent suicide. The family’s fortunes took a sharp reversal during the Great Depression, and he was surrendered by his mother to St. Rose of Lima Orphanage in 1931. He was already at the orphanage when Steven Grant Rogers was taken into care following his mother’s death, with James Buchanan Barnes following a few months later.”

“I didn’t realize that Steve and Bucky lost their families so close together,” Pepper whispered sadly.

“It is a matter of public record, so I am not violating their privacy, Ms. Potts. Mr. Joseph Rogers died of complications from mustard gas exposure during his time serving in Europe during WWI, in 1920. Mrs. Sarah Rogers died of tuberculosis after working as a consumption ward nurse for several years. She succumbed in 1932. George and Winifred Barnes died in an automobile accident in the early winter of 1933 when their vehicle lost control on black ice. Theirs was one of many accidents with that particular model car, leading the manufacturer to begin experimenting with a new form of braking mechanism over the next decade. The Rogers and Barnes families lived in the same tenement building between 1919 and 1932, and the Captain and Sergeant became friends when they were quite young.”

“And so was born one of the greatest love stories of all time,” Tony said softly, glancing toward Pepper and smiling. Just one of the greatest love stories. “And the house, J?” Tony asked, quirking an eyebrow toward the ceiling. “What’s the history on that?”

“I’m afraid its current ownership is buried under a series of shell corporations and offshore dummy companies. I am still following the trail. As far as the house’s origins, it was built in 1908 by a Mr. Tobias Drew. Captain Rogers asked me to begin researching the property before he and Sergeant Barnes departed for their appointment. However, I am finding digitally accessible real estate records from that era challenging to locate and decipher. Many of the records are faded with time, and the handwriting is rather similar to yours while under the influence. Sir.”

Tony just rolled his eyes at the reminder of his younger and most decidedly stupider days, while Pepper just glanced at him fondly. “Well maybe I should take a gander, eh, J? Seriously, flag anything that looks promising, and we’ll have it reviewed by our cryptography division.”

“We don’t have a cryptography division, Tony,” Pepper pointed out mildly.

“You have secretaries, administrative assistants, right?” Bruce asked from where he was perched. Pepper nodded as Tony grinned. “There’s your cryptography division. Admin assistants can read anything. Or pharmacists.”

“What’s Drew’s connection to the Pack?” Benson asked thoughtfully, clearing her throat to cut through the nonsense.

“Is there one? House is over 100 years old, he may have had nothing to do with what’s going on now,” Bruce countered.

“How’d the Pack acquire the property? They couldn’t have purchased it – a charitable organization like that shelling out the cash necessary to acquire that kind of pile would have attracted attention. Press. Public outrage. A story. But we’ve got nothing,” Benson pointed out reasonably.

“Not even a legend,” Tony said softly. “J, research this Drew dude too, would you? Where he came from, how he made his money. Any society page stuff, patents, anything and everything.”

Benson arched an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged. “Follow the money. It had to start somewhere.”

&&&

Buck ran his flesh thumb under his lower lip and wiped away a spot of blood from where Gambone had landed a lucky hit. Everybody’s gotta get lucky sometime, huh? But Gambone’s luck was running out, just like Bucky’s patience. The big alpha was warily circling him, half in a wrestler’s grappling position, half hugging his upper arms against ribs that Bucky knew were broken since he’d snapped them himself. The ex-boxer kept darting glances over to where Ralphie sat spewing venom, swearing curses at Gambone, his parentage, his penis size, his whole goddamned cursed life. Seriously, how could anyone be loyal to such a fucking stain as Ralphie Patterson? Over 80 years had passed, and the guy was still as much of an asshole as when they were teenagers. Only now he had the bucks and the knot to lord it over others.

Bucky frowned as he briefly wondered how Ralphie’s knot worked – was it artificial, a prosthetic, or had they somehow grafted a real one on him? Would secondary gender reassignment be something that would help Jack? And then Bucky realized he was thinking about fucking Ralphie Patterson’s junk, and that he was going to have to bleach his brain when they got home.

As a mental palate cleanser, he glanced over to where Steve stood calmly, arms crossed over his massive chest, his face composed into his patented, “Captain America is disappointed in you” look, while his eyes danced and darkened watching Buck circle around with Gambone for another feint and parry.

_The post-mission sex was going to be epic._

But if he was going to get to the good stuff, he was going to have to put an end to this bullshit. He’d dragged it out long enough that Raphie was completely convinced his champion would win, and the old asshole was feeling over-confident. Buck smiled briefly at Steve over the admonishments to Gambone to rip out Bucky’s spine and shove it down his throat, and all manner of colorful ends to his useless fucking life.

Yeah, like that was going to happen. But in the meantime, he hoped the pretty police captain was getting lots of useful threats to compile against Ralphie. 70, 80 years later, and Ralphie still didn’t have a fucking filter. Or a goddamn clue. Although, he had to have some smarts to have risen to the head of the Pack, lording it over all these people like a feudal king.

Gambone came in close, low to the ground with his arms fidgeting like he was looking for a handhold on Bucky’s body, which he moved with sinuous grace as he stepped through the delicate dance moved that constantly kept him out of Gambone’s grasp. But finally Buck spun, step, and kicked off so he was soaring up into the air, leg looping over Gambone’s shoulder, back arching, other leg flipping over to cross his ankles behind Gambone’s head, his thighs pressing, pressing, pressing against Gambone’s windpipe. Bucky held himself aloft by sheer superior muscle tone, focusing his attention on the blood vessels bursting in Gambone’s eyes, the darkening complexion that reddened as capillaries erupted, and the strangling noise that clawed its way out of Gambone’s collapsing throat as his hands scrabbled at Bucky’s thighs to release their chokehold.

Yeah …. No.

He felt Gambone’s struggles ease even as the man groaned from the pressure.

Only that didn’t sound like a groan of capitulation. It sounded like a groan of … arousal? _Seriously_?

And then Bucky remembered that he had been aroused himself, which would have led to at least a little bit of slick leakage. And his pheromones had to still be sky high.

See, this was the trouble with alphas. Slaves to their hormones, they were. Shouldn’t even be allowed out of the house …

With a grin and a sketchy salute to reverse propaganda, Bucky did a half backflip while still keeping Gambone secure in his Thighs of Death (patent pending) hold. Gambone was flipped off his feet as Buck’s hands hit the ground, and he wrenched his body so Gambone went flying, slamming into the wrought iron of the enclosure. Gambone’s breath was gone with a whooshing “oof!” as he crumpled to the ground in a broken heap, knocked unconscious. A quick glance confirmed he was still breathing, and nothing important – like a spine or a skull – appeared to be broken.

The silence in the ballroom was deafening.

Seriously, did you hear that? Pin. Drop.

Buck turned and looked directly into Ralphie’s face, flushed scarlet by rage and frustration. Holding his gaze, Bucky stalked over to where Gambone was rousing groggily, and, snagging him by the collar, hauled him up with the prosthetic, and stood there with the ex-heavyweight champion of New York dangling from his hand like an abandoned Muppet. 

Ralphie glared at him, hot and venomous. Reptilian in his rage.

Geeze, even the Hydra fucks never looked at him with such consuming hatred. Then again, he’d been useful to them, until he started killing them one by one, base by base until the organization was a smoking ruin, a blasted out crater in what used to be Vladivostok, a certain chair a molten smear. And even then, when people had looked on the Winter Soldier, it hadn’t been hatred he saw. He saw fear.

And he saw it now, in the depths of Ralphie’s eyes. Lurking behind the hatred.

That might make him dangerous. Maybe.

“Finish it,” he said softly. “ _Now_.”

Bucky just stared at him impassively, holding Gambone up a fraction more. The plates in his arm shifted slightly to compensate, keeping Gambone balanced, the arm at the optimal angle to eliminate fatigue, pain. Fabric stretched and strained, but held.

“I said, _finish it_ ,” Ralphie repeated, louder this time, eyes narrowing, his thin and lined lip curling.

Bucky continued to stand there, holding Gambone like a prized fish.

This is the one that didn’t get away. 

Suck on that, Ralphie.

Ralphie’s nostrils flared, breath puffing out of him in an explosive whoosh. He stood again, cane balanced under the force of his white-knuckled grip. He drew himself up to full height again, pounded the cane into the marble of the dais, and bellowed, “Kill him! Or forfeit!”

Buck remained impassive, immobile.

With a sharp jerk of his head, Ralphie signaled his lieutenants to open the gates of the arena. Bucky spared a glance toward Steve, who stood there calmly, an eyebrow arched in Bucky’s direction giving him the tell he needed.

He remained still. Gambone dangled, starting to come to, his body jerking weirdly in Bucky’s implacable grasp.

“Kill him!” Ralphie ordered, voice carrying with that electronic undercurrent. “Rip him to pieces!”

And as one, every alpha, omega, and beta in the room turned toward the arena as the air shifted ominously around him.

It wasn’t clear just who Ralphie wanted dead, but the assemblage was shuffling toward the enclosed arena. The arena that now was open at both ends.

Bucky stood. Gambone twitched fearfully, awake and aware now. Begging to be let go, to escape the mob that moved fitfully toward the arena. He believed that Ralphie’s command was to kill him. Bucky wasn’t so sure.

Bucky didn’t shift, didn’t lower his arm, didn’t turn to see the crowd advancing on the enclosure. He could hear them growing closer, a voiceless, faceless, soulless collective, operating under Ralphie Patterson’s diseased will.

They were nearly at the perimeter. Gambone whimpered. Ralphie chuckled.

“Stop.” Bucky felt a frisson of reaction to Steve’s voice, but he knew he could withstand the full power of the command – he’d seen Steve naked, had his dick up Steve’s ass. He didn’t take orders unless it was part of a mission. Or a scene. Or ‘cos he felt like it.

But in this ballroom? _Silence_. _Stillness_. 

Gambone drew a shuddery breath, and Buck felt him stop struggling, just hanging there in his grip, waiting.

“There will be no violence today.”

A few gasps, sighs of relief. Grunt of frustration. Hmm. Some were invested in the violence, but some of them hadn’t drunk the Kool-aid. Not yet, anyway.

“Return to your seats.”

“I said kill him!” Ralphie raged.

A fumbling step forward. One foot among many held still. Programming versus nature. The crowd was paralyzed by the conflicting orders.

“There will be no killing. Mercy. I offer mercy. Let him go, Buck.”

With a faint whir, the arm recalibrated, and Bucky lowered Gambone to his feet, where he stumbled to regain his footing. He stood, pulling his clothes back into order and glanced fearfully around at the wall of people waiting on the edge of the arena, a small, furtive sound of fear in the back of his throat. With the hoard surrounding them on three sides, he made to edge toward the dais, but froze when he apparently realized the crowd could surge forward and overtake him before he could get to safety. 

The wall of alphas watched them both with bloodlust in their eyes. The omegas and the children stared wide-eyed, terrified. This was some really sick fucked up shit. Those kids were gonna be in therapy the rest of their lives after this night.

That settled it. Time to end this.

“My champion beat yours. It’s over.”

Well, married telepathy still working 100%, Bucky thought to himself with an internal grin. He could almost feel Steve being smug about the timing.

“To the death, Rogers. To the death. They’re both still alive, for now! Nothing’s been won. I haven’t lost.”

Steve glanced over at Bucky, eyebrow arched. What the fuck? _Oh_. Steve had only been using a fraction of the power of his alpha voice of command. 

Little known fact about alphas was that not every one of them was born with a voice of command. It was a mutation within a mutation. Bucky remembered that when they were young, maybe one in a hundred alphas had the voice. With the decimation of their numbers over the past three generations, he’d read somewhere that it was more like one in one hundred _thousand_ in the twenty-first century, and the odds grew slimmer with each passing year. And while everyone had seemed to count little Steve Rogers out, few people had known that he’d been born with a natural voice of command, even before he presented alpha in his late teens. Even Steve hadn’t suspected it until one day it slipped out accidentally when he was 10, and he’d managed to command an entire classroom into silence with just a shouted, “Shut up!” It wasn’t until years later that they connected the dots and realized that Steve had always had the voice. With everyone who’d known him gone, now it was only Bucky who knew, only Bucky who could still see the spitfire inside the avenging angel.

But Steve was always reluctant to use the voice in full, because it sapped the hearer of their will, and it worked on differentiated and non-differentiated alike. Even during the war, when he might have used it to turn the tide, Steve had been reluctant. He’d always taken the responsibility seriously, solemnly, the old sap.

So it kinda said something that he was willing to use it here. Buck knew Steve had seen the kids, seen the moms and the omegas caught in this nightmare, stripped of their wills and forced to do something horrific by the twisted insanity that defined Ralphie Patterson today. Bucky smiled and nodded to Seve, granted permission and blessing in one gesture.

Then Bucky braced himself. He was gonna climb that man like a fucking redwood when they were done here! But for now … Buck was gonna focus on picturing Steve on his knees. With his cock in his mouth. Because the distraction would diffuse the command for Bucky. So he was gonna think on that while his mate got these knuckleheads under control. 

“Ralphie Patterson, you have abused and misused your community long enough. You have exploited your own people and set yourself up as a false god, above the law, above morality. _On your knees, Ralphie Patterson, and beg their forgiveness_ ,” Steve intoned, bringing the voice into full power as the air thrummed with the force of his will.

Bucky liked how Steve ensured that only Ralphie would be affected by the command, but that might have been a tactical error considering his enforcers and legal assholes would not fall under the command. So Buck did what any attentive spouse would do, and stalked through the arena gate to stand threateningly by his husband’s side. 

In the meantime, Ralphie was sweating, trembling, skin pale and eyes wide as he tried to ignore Steve’s command. One of the enforcers shifted, hand straying to the holster under his expensive jacket, so Buck just lifted his prosthetic hand and slowly formed it into a fist, letting the plates settle into place with an audible and deliberate whir. The hand drifted back down, remaining in plain sight.

“ _I said kneel, Ralphie_!” Steve insisted, and this time, Ralphie couldn’t resist. The hand holding his cane shook with effort, and the cane slid out of his grasp, forcing Ralphie to stumble forward gracelessly. Several of his entourage rushed forward to steady him, but Steve raised his hand and commanded, “ _Leave him_ ,” and they fell back, as Ralphie fell forward, his knees hitting the marble floor with a sickening crack, hands thudding against the stone to halt him falling on his face, even as a pained grunt slipped past his lips pressed tightly together. The look he leveled on Steve would have killed a lesser man.

But Steve Rogers wasn’t a lesser man. And Bucky didn’t think that just because they were shtupping on the regular.

Ralphie glared up at Steve, his face tight with pain, and ground out with venom, “You didn’t beat me. I am still the alpha of alphas. I am still better than you, Steve Fucking Rogers! I’ve always been better than you!”

“I reject you, Ralphie Patterson. You are nothing. We will not kill for you. _And no one will die for you_. _Ralphie Patterson, you are done. You are no longer to be considered alpha of alphas. Everyone you have victimized is free to leave, free to choose for themselves, free to live the best lives you can. And you and everyone who helped you will deliver themselves for punishment_.”

Ralphie shuffled forward on his knees, wincing at the pain there, as his body tried to comply with Steve’s command. His erstwhile guards stepped forward when Steve nodded to them, and two of them scooped him up with big hands under Ralphie’s thin armpits, hauling him to his feet and dragging him down the steps from the dais to stand at attention before Steve. 

Steve looked at Ralphie for a long moment, letting Ralphie brighten a little with hope, and then Steve abruptly turned and faced the crowd of people slowly separating themselves into two groups – the abused, and the abusers. Some seemed unsure which group they belonged in, and Buck was heartened to see some of the people in abused group push some of the undecided toward the abusers crowd, and a few were pulled into the abused. Those who’d facilitated Ralphie’s reign of terror might not understand just how far they’d travelled the road to perdition, but the people they’d forced along for the ride had no question.

“ _Let justice be served_.”

&&&

Out by the car, Happy listened to his comm and grinned. Then picked up the walkie and flicked it on, announcing, “Jenkins, they’re comin’ in hot. Open the gates.”

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there might be a little delay until the next chapter. I really didn't expect to end this where I have, but I typed that last short scene, and I realized that this is where this chapter was supposed to end. Next up? Justice. Mysteries solved. More justice. And probably some post-mission sex. If Buck has anything to say about it. Like I could ever deny him ... :)


	15. I Saw the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Pack is subdued, and now it's time for some due process. But not before Iron Man makes an entrance, and two super soldiers find themselves facing conflicting impulses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so here's another chapter. I really like this chapter, to be honest, but I wasn't expecting Tony to wrest the POV away from Buck. But when a character demands center stage, who am I to deny them?
> 
> I'm upping the chapter count because there's a bit more to tidy up before this tale is done. And it will set up a sequel. But first have some justice. Next chapter: smut.

Jenkins set the walkie down and flicked the switches on the control panel to open the gates just as a gold and red projectile shot through, repulsors flaring as Jenkins’ clothes were nearly ripped off him in the backwash.

A few minutes behind, a caravan streamed through the gates, made up of umarked black cars with flashing lights on their rooves, and traditional black and white, their roof lights spinning out a warning to the night.

He picked up the walkie again and transmitted to Happy, “The Eagle has landed. Over.”

“Gotta work on your walkie lingo, kid. Get crackin’ on that resume, okay?” Happy sent back with a chuckle.

&&&

“ _Let justice be served_.”

It had been as much a trigger as it was a command, although no one in Tony’s command center had ever experience Steve Grant Rogers’s voice of command in full alpha mode before. Even through the sound system – a very, very good, nay incredible sound system of Tony’s own devising – the timber of Cap’s voice had touched a nerve in each and every one of them, and all of them felt an overwhelming urge to serve that voice, to see justice delivered in the most expeditious way possible.

Fortunately, that dovetailed nicely with everyone’s plans for the evening, but Tony was grateful that Cap was as circumspect with the voice as he was. It was impossible to deny, and he had no doubt if people knew that kind of power existed in Cap’s vocal chords, there would be demands to muzzle – literally – the cultural icon.

He was doubly grateful the fact of Cap’s ability had never made the history books. There was no record of him having this rare and frankly frightening ability.

They were all very lucky that nature had seen fit to grant this power to someone who respected both it, and the people on whom he could wield it. A hundred years and gaining, and it was a secret no one had ever exposed before today.

So the whole team mobilized, Benson and her crew, Isabelle Elliott and whoever she called upon from CPS. Romanoff, Barton, Bruce, and Pepper were coming in by quinjet to contain the situation until the cops arrived. And Tony, with the razzle dazzle to keep everyone occupied while everyone else got into position.

Tony zoomed through the big doors, careened through the vaulted hallways, and soared up to the ceiling of the grand ballroom before spiraling straight down to come to rest directly across from Cap and Barnes. As he walked toward them, the suit removed itself and collapsed into a small case, folding itself up neatly to rest at his feet as he stopped and grinned at them.

“Eh?” he asked, nodding toward his spectacular entrance and the way the segregated alphas watched him warily. Shock and awe, baby. Shock and awe. He grinned at a couple of little kids pointing excitedly at the suit case, and figured maybe he could do a little outreach after the dust settled, give the kids a little thrill to make the night a little easier to cope with.

“Doors are still standing, aren’t they, Stark? Don’t want security on this place to be compromised while we take it apart cataloguing all the incriminating shit I’m sure Ralphie’s got squirreled away,” Barnes grumbled, and Tony might have taken that for an insult, but he knew Barnes, knew his gruff ways (with everyone but his honeybun, and the sickly sweet baby talk between them was enough to put him on insulin for the rest of his life). It was a Barnesian acknowledgement of his prowess, and he accepted it with his normal grace. That is, with a full-fledged insult and a grin. 

A high-pitched whine tickled at the edge of his awareness, and Tony’s grin widened. “Barton and Romanoff.”

“All right then,” Barnes approved with a terse nod. They all knew that Barton and Romanoff would contain anyone attempting to leave, although it looked like no one had tried yet, probably still in thrall to Cap’s command.

Pleasantries and posturing aside, as Tony glanced around the ballroom, he felt sick to his stomach. “This is everyone?”

Cap nodded gravely, his hand on the nape of Barnes’s neck, massaging gently, fingers brushing possessively against the raised scar of Barnes’s bonding mark. “Everyone who was here tonight. We’re going to have to go through the records of the Society to track down other people who might be involved, but as a first cut, this is good. I just can’t believe so many people were complicit in what’s been essentially slavery.”

“Sex trade,” Bucky amended. “Selling off omegas to breed. Sex trade.”

“Yeah,” Cap agreed breathily, like he was struggling to breathe. He leaned in toward Barnes, probably didn’t even realize he was doing it as he breathed deep of whatever manly essence Barnes was pumping into the air, and his features seemed to calm momentarily.

Actually, Tony wrinkled his nose as he realized he could actually _smell_ whatever manly essence Barnes was pumping out into the air. Cap, too. Oh yeah, the _plan_. Well, the plan needed to take a cold shower, and use plenty of body wash. Tony scrubbed a finger under his nose to clear the scent for a moment.

“You put a stop to it. You did good. Benson and her people are on their way in, Elliott, too. They’ll sort this out, start getting these people on the road to justice.”

Cap nodded glumly. “So long as they arrest Ralphie, too. He’s responsible for all this suffering. Generations worth of suffering.”

“Yeah, about that. Ralphie Patterson was someone you knew from the orphanage, right?”

Barnes was the one to answer. “Yeah, creepy little prick, always had a hard-on for alpha horseshit just like this. Declared himself the chief alpha before either of us ever got to the orphanage, then started claiming other kids for his ‘harem.’ He wanted Steve in the worst way.”

“You, too, Buck. Yeah, he figured he was gonna lord it over everybody. When he presented as omega, you’d think the world was ending.”

“Yeah,” Barnes agreed thoughtfully, and Tony looked at him curiously.

“Cough it up, Barnes.”

“Yeah, Ralphie hated Steve for presenting alpha. Fuckin’ hated him.”

“Ah. Y’think that’s where this was all born?”

“Nah, Ralphie had this in ‘im before we ever met. How he made this all happen, though –“

“That’s the thing. According to the records Jarvis has been able to find so far, Ralphie Patterson died in 1940. This here? Raphael Diminucci.”

“He smells like Ralphie. He answers to Ralphie. He’s a fuckin’ creep like Ralphie. He’s fuckin’ Ralphie,” Barnes growled. Like seriously growled. And bared his teeth before he stepped back on his heel to nose at Cap’s jawline. Cap’s hand dropped from Barnes’s nap to rest on the waistband of Barnes’s pants. Which Tony just realized rested under no shirt – Barnes was still naked from the waist up, and Cap’s was starting to get a bit handsy. The PDA was getting a little worrisome. Pepper would frown if she had to pull PR out of bed to bleach the brains of all assembled if the Rogers-Barneses couldn’t keep it in their pants. And Tony liked to remove any reasons for Pepper to frown anytime he could. Well, most times, especially if it was someone else causing the frowning, rather than Tony himself.

Tony was about to say something when Benson strode into the ballroom, paused at the entry and gestured to her team to fan out and do whatever it was police did in a situation like this. Benson looked up toward the dais area where Tony stood with Cap and Barnes, and she nodded, striding purposefully toward them.

Just as she crossed through the strange palisaded arena, one of the Pack suits seemed to suddenly grow a spine again, and separated himself from the rest to walk confidently toward Benson, inserting himself at a 45 degree vector to intercept her before she reached them.

“That’s Mineo,” Cap said suddenly, and as one, he and Barnes peeled off to cut across the dude’s path and join up with Benson before the suit reached her.

The suit – or Mineo as Cap had identified him – frowned slightly at the sight of Cap and Mrs. Cap, but didn’t let that stop him as he smiled his sharky white-toothed smile at the police captain. The glow faded a little as Cap took a step to block Mineo from Benson.

“It’s all right, Captain,” Benson said, nudging him out of the way so she faced Mineo. “I’d like to hear what Counsel has to say.”

“Thank you, Captain,” he replied, his smile widening, but becoming no less predatory. He deftly drew a card from his breast pocket and handed it to her between two fingers. “As you would expect, I will be representing Mr. Diminucci and the remainder of the Society’s members, should there be any legal action.” 

Tony could smell the smug from here. He bit down on the urge to smack the smarmy smarmmeister.

“Really. Huh,” Benson replied before a grin every bit as predatory as Mineo’s smile was spread across her features. “That’s going to be a hard promise to deliver on, Mr. Mineo. Seeing as you’re under arrest for conspiracy to commit a felony or five.”

Mineo just stared at her for a moment, but in that moment, his façade dropped for just an eye blink. But Tony lived in the spaces between eye blinks, the fractal moments between possibility and reality. Or some such shit. The disgust and contempt in Mineo’s features, revealed for that tiny space of time, was breathtaking in its magnitude. And then it was tamped down, a confident smile taking its place as he said, “That won’t be necessary, Captain. You will not be arresting me, or any member of the Society. This is all a misunderstanding. You’re free to go.”

Tony could feel the cold prickle at the base of his brain as Mineo attempted to invoke an alpha voice of command. He heard the burr of it, felt the compulsion to obey, and then felt it fizzle out. Mineo had some talent, but he wasn’t in Cap’s class at all.

And Cap let him know it.

_“Mr. Mineo, you will never again try to impose your will upon another living thing. Your alpha voice is forever silent.”_

The directed command had no effect on Tony or anyone other than Mineo, but the effect on Mineo was instantaneous and chilling. His mouth shut with a snap, and his eyes widened in fear. He stood there, silent, but trembling with tension. No doubt trying to break the compulsion just set on him, and losing. Tony felt a vicious stab of satisfaction, at the same time he felt concern.

While Benson signaled for her people to take Mineo and the other suit’s into custody, Cap’s face was contorted in guilt and disappointment. Barnes leaned in close and murmured encouragement in his ear, fingers curling into Cap’s. Tony saw Cap’s hand grab onto Barnes’s fingers, squeeze tight, then lace together, knuckles nearly white with the intensity of the hold. Their other hands were starting to wander, and Barnes was nosing at Cap’s jaw, down his neck, and into that spot that he often went when he was worried … or turned on The way he arched his neck back and Cap pressed his face into the exposed line of Barnes’s neck answered that question. 

The world really didn’t need to see two super soldiers doing the horizontal mambo in front of a ballroom full of traumatized sexual abuse survivors.

And Tony seriously did not need Pepper’s I am disappointed in you face for letting it happen.

And Cap looked like he was going to be sick as easily as he might go down on Barnes any minute.

“Okay!” Tony announced suddenly, venturing to insert himself into the escalating lustfest that was Barnes and Rogers. “How about we get you two boys home where you can regroup, get your heads on straight, huh? Whaddya say, Barnes? Take your best guy home and get him out of his head for a while?”

“We need to help with the round-up, we –“

“No you don’t, Captain. You’ve done enough. We’ll take it from here. You did a great job, helped us break through where no one else has ever been able to get close. You did real good, boys. Now go get some rest. And put on a shirt, Barnes,” she ordered with a gruff smile, and then turned back to her team.

“Happy’ll get you home. Get out of here, okay?”

“Okay,” Cap said softly, raising bruised looking eyes to spear Tony with his gratitude. Barnes cast a dark pupiled glance in Tony’s direction, having the audacity to smirk before he turned Cap to guide him out to the car.

“Have the decency to put up the privacy screen before you do anything! Y’don’t wanna scar Happy for life, y’know. He’s been through enough already!”

“Yeah, yeah! Promise we won’t do anything you haven’t already tried, Tony!” Barnes called back over his shoulder, raising that gorgeous metal arm in salute, middle finger prominently and proudly held high.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I read over some of the earlier parts of the story, I realized I mentioned that Mineo had a hint of command in his voice, and I was like, "oh noes!" Then it occurred to me he could have that, but just not very strong. And of course, in his very arrogant fashion, he didn't realize that his "gift" was weak, while Steve's was ... well, not.
> 
> There are some other discrepancies that I need to think about and fix throughout the story, and that will come later. In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed! Please leave a comment if you can!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	16. White Rabbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the after-effects of their confrontation with the Pack hits Steve harder than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I celebrate NaNoFaFi (coined by shanology for a month to finish fan fiction!), I'm working my way through the various stories I've started and set aside to meet other deadlines, or deal with real life.
> 
> My stories are never far from my mind, and I am not abandoning any of them. I just need to balance a demanding job with responsibilities of being a homeowner, having a life, trying to get back into art, etc. Y'know - life. :)

As soon as Steve and Bucky came through the gaping doors of the Pack Residence, Happy knew he was going to have to put the air scrubbers on max. Sure, he knew the whole point of the boys getting each other riled up was to destabilize the alphas inside, but he also knew those two couldn’t resist each other on their worst days. Turned on and amped up? He had a feeling Tony’s most hedonistic days (thankfully well in the past, thanks to Ms. Potts) couldn’t hold a candle to what these two could get up to.

So Happy leaned against the front wheel well, arms crossed over his chest, and smirked at the red-faced, dark-eyed, practically panting pair of super soldiers entwined with each other.

“Where to, gents?” he chuckled.

“You fucking know where, Hap. Get us out of here. We gotta get somewhere horizontal,” Bucky growled.

“Not your backseat, we promise. If you break some speed laws. I don’t know how much longer I can hold out, baby,” Steve murmured, nuzzling into Bucky’s hair, lips trailing over Bucky’s scent glands, tongue slipping out and grazing over the sensitive flesh.

“Maybe I need to separate you,” Happy chuckled, then snagged Bucky by the wrist and hauled him toward the front door. “You, Barnes, up front with me.”

That earned him a toe-curling growl from Steve, whose dark eyes bore into him with an intensity Happy had never seen before as he suddenly lurched toward the driver. Even Bucky seemed alarmed at the sound, and pushed back when Steve made an aggressive move toward Happy. “Baby, no,” Bucky said, curling his flesh hand around the nape of Steve’s neck, letting his fingers trail down over his shoulder and pressing his thumb into Steve’s scent gland, nudging his face toward Bucky and away from Happy. “Shit, baby, I didn’t realize. I’m yours, baby. Nobody else’s, just yours, always. Nobody’s ever gonna take me away from you, I swear. No one ever has, no one ever will,” he insisted, tipping Steve’s face up to cover his mouth with his own, wet, hot, insistent.

Steve melted into the kiss, hands reaching for Barnes’s ass, grabbing both cheeks, and squeezing hard enough to leave a mark.

“Uh, guys?” Happy prompted, shifting uncomfortably as Bucky let his prosthetic slide down Steve’s ribcage to grip him at the hip, drawing him close enough to grind their obvious erections together.

Bucky turned his face away from the kiss, letting Steve nip and suck his way down his neck again, mouthing over his scent glands with a rumbling growl that was nearly a purr. “Trust me, Hap, you don’t want to separate an alpha from his mate under these conditions. I shoulda guessed he might react like this, but it hasn’t happened since, shit, not since he liberated me from Hydra back in 1944. Not since the Red Skull and his alpha Hydra goons got their stink all up in his nose. Barely held it in check on the march back to camp. Carter and Phillips had to put us in isolation for a week before he came out of it fully. He’s pheromone drunk, and getting deeper. All those alphas, gettin’ riled up, watchin’ me fight – you grabbin’ my arm was the last straw, tipped the balance. Hap, we gotta punch it,” Bucky ordered, holding Steve’s face against his scent glands as he awkwardly manhandled him into the back of the car and dragged the door closed behind him. “Close the passthrough, turn up the air conditioning. And for god’s sake, don’t stop for anything,” Bucky ordered before he slammed the passthrough closed. 

Happy nodded and slid quickly into the driver’s seat, and peeled out of the erstwhile Pack estate.

&&&

“Jarvis has cleared the garage elevator so you can go direct to your floor, but what’re you gonna do about the kids?” Happy asked through the comm.

“Shit, I’d forgotten about them. I can’t let them see Steve like this, and the pair of us could trigger Jack’s heat prematurely. Shit, shit, shit!” Bucky swore, digging his heel against his forehead, screwing up his eyes in frustration. Steve had calmed a bit, but still hadn’t really come back to himself yet. “We can’t go to our floor, not until I get him out of his head.”

“How’re you gonna do that?”

“Fuck his brains out.” At Happy’s snort, Bucky added tensely, “The endorphins will counteract the pheromone overload. I mean, we were planning on doing it anyway, but now it’s a necessity. I just hope it doesn’t take a week like the last time.”

“Yeah. A solid week of fucking sounds like a real hardship,” Happy commented wryly.

“It is when you’re the one getting fucked non-stop, 24/7. Even with my knockoff serum, after a while stuff starts to _chafe_ , Hap. But Steve’s just keeps replenishing, and he can go at it like a fucking rabbit. Doesn’t need much sleep, either. Trust me, I gotta do that, and we’re gonna be sleepin’ in separate bedrooms for a while, we’ll be that sick of each other,” Bucky answered with a grimace and an unhappy shudder. “Yeah, you don’t want that, do you, baby? Gonna be good for me, aren’t you?” Bucky asked Steve softly, stroking Steve’s cheek gently. Steve’s eyes fluttered closed and he pressed his face into the curve of Bucky’s palm. He turned his head slightly to leave a kiss, feather-light, against the point where Bucky’s life lines intersected. Bucky closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Steve’s pressing a kiss to the furrow between his brows. “Are y’comin’ back to me, baby? 

“Mmhmm,” Steve murmured against Bucky’s skin. “Mine,” he added with a voice laced with gravel and want.

“Always, baby. Always yours. Now open your eyes and look at me, okay?”

Steve shook his head, burrowing further against Bucky’s scent glands. It took some cajoling, but finally he got Steve to pull his face away and open his eyes. They were dark, pupil completely eclipsing the iris, and it almost seemed like the white was nearly gone as well. 

“How’s he doin’?” Happy called over the comm.

“Still under, but I don’t think there’s any danger unless someone seems like they’re poaching on his territory. Namely, me. But we’re still gonna need a safe space. Ask Jarvis if he can set aside one of the empty guest floors for us, huh, Hap?”

“Already taken care of, Sergeant Barnes. Upon your arrival, I will ensure you travel to the restricted floor without interference,” Jarvis answered over the comm system.

“Hey, thanks, Jarvis. What about the kids?”

“Ms. Potts is with them now. She’s explaining that you are both indisposed but healthy and victorious after your encounter with the Pack. I understand there may be some celebratory s’mores in their future, and possibly a sleepover on the Potts-Stark level. Dr. Banner has offered to supervise.”

“The kids?”

“Mr. Stark, sir.”

“Ah. Well, that’s good then. Thanks, Jarvis. And Happy. Don’t know what we’d do without you both.”

“Just keep it in your pants ‘til we get there, and we’ll call it even,” Happy replied with a chuckle, but there was an underlying edge of seriousness to his tone. Bucky smiled to himself, and went back to focusing on his husband, giving him reassuring and affectionate touches right up until the elevator doors closed behind them.

Then all bets were off.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, there might be some smut in your future. Maybe. Not sure - I kinda feel like Bucky may want to keep this private so he can get back with the kids sooner rather than later. We'll see. Watch this space.


	17. A Whole New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the history of the Pack begins to emerge, Steve and Bucky finally emerge, too, and Bucky's destiny may be about to change thanks to his own personal history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so at the end of the last chapter, it looked like the boys were about to embark on a marathon sex binge - and they did, just off camera. Steve's kind of shy and a little bit ashamed that he lost control, and Bucky is all about caring for Steve. So if you're expecting lots of smut in this chapter, sorry, the privacy veil has been pulled.
> 
> So, have some feelings and plot instead!

Steve rested his face against Bucky’s thigh, reveling in the warmth, the solidity, the scent of his mate and best friend. His fingers trailed loosely up and down the firm muscles of Bucky’s shin, stroking absently yet seeking contact to ground him in the here and now.

“You have beautiful ankles,” he said softly, and turned to press a kiss to the top of Bucky’s knee as his fingers slid down to gently circle one of Bucky’s ankles. “Strong, flexible, beautiful.”

Bucky’s fingers skidded to a half where they scratched at Steve’s scalp, sifting through his short hair. “Beautiful _ankles_ ,” he snorted. “That’s a new one.”

“Everything about you is beautiful, Buck,” Steve breathed against Bucky’s skin.

“I’d say you’re kinda biased, pal. Bein’ life-bonded to me an’ all,” Bucky chuckled fondly.

“I’d mate you again a thousand times if you wanted,” Steve replied, lifting his head up to look up into Bucky’s eyes. “If we lived forever, it wouldn’t be enough of a life to be bonded to you.”

“Wow, baby, oughta get you pheromone drunk more often. You say the sweetest things,” Bucky told him, curling over to drop a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “Already know I’m gonna live forever, ‘cos there ain’t no way I’m givin’ you up, darlin’.”

“Take me to bed,” Steve whispered urgently.

“Been there, done that, baby. Gonna be walkin’ funny for a week as it is,” Bucky told him wryly. 

“Oh God,” Steve groaned, blushing fiercely and turning his face to hide against Bucky’s thigh again. “How long?”

Bucky’s fingers kneaded into the meat of Steve’s shoulders gently. “Not as bad as after Azzano. Only 36 hours this time. Still, baby, you gave me a poundin’. My ass could use a break. At least until everything heals.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“Only in the best possible way. You know I love it when you go all alpha prime on me. Nothin’ happened that wasn’t 110% consensual, trust me. I know how to safeword out if it’s too much, and it was fine. You must be hungry, though. You sure as fuck worked up an appetite.”

“Um, yeah. Could eat. But wait – where are we?” Steve asked, raising his head again and looking around curiously. “This isn’t our floor. Where are the kids – ?”

“Guest floor. Stark’ll have to call in the hazmat team – not many surfaces we didn’t christen. Kids are with Pepper. They’re good.”

“Oh, God, do they know? About me, I mean? Geeze, Buck, how’m I gonna face them?”

Bucky’s hands slid over Steve’s shoulders and grasped them, hauling him up from where he curled around Bucky’s legs, and drawing him into a hug, back pressed against his chest. His hands traced the planes and dips of Steve’s chest, his abs, his sides, not a sexual touch, but grounding, loving, centering. 

“They know their new Dad is a fuckin’ hero, Stevie. They know you took down the Pack.”

“We took ‘em down. You more’n me –“

“Don’t be all modest, baby. You put an end to ‘em. They ain’t takin’ anymore kids, and they’re gonna get what’s comin’ to ‘em. But the kids know about our PTSD. They know that night at the ‘Residence’ was hard on us both, scary as fuck, and makin’ everything we ever believed so much crap. I explained it was PTSD, alpha style, that was good enough for ‘em both. They’re lookin’ forward to seein’ us both again, but they get it, Steve. They understand, and they’re okay. And we owe Pepper like the biggest fruit basket this side of Asgard, baby. Maybe we should take the kids to Asgard for the day and go shoppin’ for Pep, y’know? I don’t know how we’re ever gonna repay that woman’s kindness.”

“And knowin’ Pep, she delivered with a smile and a kind word, huh?” Steve asked, shaking his head ruefully. “How’d Tony get so lucky, huh? Who’d’a thought Howard’s kid would … well. He’s a lucky sonovabitch, that’s for sure.”

“Damn straight. So, there’s lots of news, Benson’s team’s been siftin’ through the debris, workin’ their way through the ‘conspirators.’ Isabelle’s been processing the kids. They both wanna talk to us when we’re ready. I been keepin’ up on some of it when you’ve been, ah, restin’, but sounds like there’s a shit-ton of stuff they’ve uncovered.”

“Ralphie?”

“In custody. They’re gonna make it stick, baby. Sick bastard ain’t gonna hurt anyone else again, ever.”

“We coulda stopped it all, y’know. We coulda stopped him, way back when. If only –“

“We had no reason to believe he’d do what he did. Remember, Ralphie disappeared. Off the face of the earth. He aged out of the orphanage after I did, and just poof, gone.”

“Shoulda reported his sick fantasies to the nuns,” Steve insisted quietly, hanging his head.

“Shoulda, coulda, woulda … don’t think we coulda changed much. He always was a squirrelly type, slick and slimy and able to wriggle through the cracks. He woulda found a way, Steve. Y’can’t carry the sins of the world on your shoulders, baby. You can only carry your own.”

Steve rested his head against Bucky’s shoulder, turned his face so his cheek pressed against his collarbone, his nose gently nudging against Bucky’s scent glands. “Fuck, you smell good. Y’sure I can’t interest you … ?” Steve murmured. Steve snuggled into the warm crook of Bucky’s neck and ran his lips over the scent gland, tongue flickering against the sensitive skin.

Bucky huffed out an unsteady laugh, arching his neck to give Steve more room to play in. “You’re fuckin’ insatiable. The whole fuckin’ world thinks you’re this clean cut nice guy. Old-fashioned, perfect gentleman. They don’t know what a fuckin’ sex fiend you are. Tell ya what – I wouldn’t say no to a blow job and a shower, and then we can rejoin the living and get some grub. How’s that sound, sugar?”

Bucky wasn’t prepared for the way Steve suddenly spun around so that he was straddling Bucky’s thighs, his hands on Bucky’s shoulders as he ground his hardening cock against Bucky’s, hands caressing the planes and swells of Bucky’s chest, his back, his arms, trailing toward the curve of his ass and lingering there. “I want you to fuck me,” Steve growled, his voice dark with intent. “I want you to take me and pound me into the mattress. I wanna feel you for days, Buck. Claim me like you let me claim you. Partners, equals, say you will –“

“I can work with that,” Bucky replied in a voice thick with want. “Yeah, baby, I can do that. I’ll take care of you. Then shower, people, food. Okay?”

“Whatever you want, baby. Now, where’s the bedroom on this floor?”

&&&

It was nearly forty hours since they’d returned to the Tower before Steve and Bucky made an appearance on the communal floor all residents of the Tower utilized. As the elevator took them to the floor, Jarvis gave then a rundown on who was in the Tower and why.

“Geeze, sounds like a command performance,” Bucky observed, lounging against the elevator wall.

Steve shook his head. “Council of war, maybe.”

“Everyone has been waiting for you to arrive, sirs. There is quite a lot of excitement to share with you the many things that have happened since you took down the Pack. You are both quite the heroes. Sirs.”

“Cut the act, Jarvis. You know you’re supposed to call us both by our first names.”

“Yes, of course, sir. As Sir would say, better clench up – there’s quite the crowd awaiting your arrival. And may I say, congratulations on a job well-done. The children are especially excited.”

Steve started to pull back, clutching at Bucky’s hand as he tried to make himself smaller at the back of the elevator. “Hey, c’mon, none of that! Jarvis is right – job well-done. Y’did good, Stevie. The team did good. Our kids got a reason to be proud of us, y’know? Our Mas certainly would be. Now, c’mon – you and me, right?”

“Til the end of the line.”

“Yeah, and then some, baby,” Bucky said huskily as he twined his fingers with Steve’s, pecked a soft kiss on his cheek just as the elevator came to a smooth stop, the world paused, and then the doors opened.

&&&

Pepper led them deftly through the fray, a simple frown on her lovely features enough warning to keep the vultures at bay until Steve and Bucky had loaded up their plates and tucked into the first real meal they’d had in about forty-eight hours. She merely arched an eyebrow when the kids slid into the seats across from their fathers, their own plates equally laden. Pepper glanced around the table, nodded her satisfaction, and then went over to rejoin the adults, holding them back from satisfying their own curiosity.

Jack tucked into his meal with only the occasional furtive glance toward his adoptive fathers. Jazz sat at the table with her arms crossed in front of her, peering at Steve for a long, silent moment while he shoveled in food. Finally, he paused, fork suspended before his mouth, and looked back.

“Are you okay? Really?” she said softly, a crinkle forming between her brows.

“Yeah,” Steve replied slowly. “Yeah, thanks to Buck.” Steve glanced toward Bucky and smiled, earning him a smile back and a hand slid gently over his. Jasmine watched the exchange with silent intensity.

“They all got it wrong, didn’t they?” she asked suddenly, nodding her head toward where their hands clasped one another, and reaching one of her hands toward theirs. Bucky smiled at her , grasping her hand and pulling it to rest over theirs. “It’s not the alpha who’s strong, who protects the family. It’s the omega,” she observed quietly, but Jack put down his fork and peered at his sister quizzically.

“Try getting between a mom and her cubs. Kittens, puppies, children. There is some of that maternal instinct inherent in being an omega, as much as it’s there for anyone, anything identifying as female. Actually, y’know, scratch that. Anyone who cares about another. It’s not gender, it’s human. My job when we were kids was to take care of Steve. And Steve’s job was to take care of me. It’s what we do. It’s who we are. And now that includes you. But yeah, people who see an omega as weak, as the subservient gender, they don’t understand. They project a fantasy.”

Steve lifted his head and looked at Bucky like he’d seen the face of God. “Buck was always the strong one. I had a big ball of anger, but he was the strong one. We never woulda made it if it weren’t for his sheer cussedness.”

“It’s called determination in nicer circles, Rogers,” he answered, cuffing his palm against the back of Steve’s head.

Steve shoved his fork in his mouth and gave Bucky a wide, food-filled grin. “It’s cussedness. With a bit of bull-headedness thrown in.”

“Shut your mouth, y’got kids you’re givin’ a bad example to,” Bucky said, but there was no heat to his words, only a fond exasperation. He gave Jasmine’s fingers a squeeze, then lifted Steve’s and his joined hands to his lips, where he gave Steve’s fingertips a kiss.

Jasmine smiled, reclaiming her hand to pick up her fork and take a thoughtful bite. Then she said, “They told us you took down the Pack, you fought them – actually _fought_ them – and won. Is that true? Are they really gone?”

“I think so. But we’re gonna talk to Captain Benson and find out the details, huh? But you shoulda seen Buck – he was amazing.”

Jack snorted. “Oh, we watched some of it on YouTube. What, you take your shirt off in front of a bunch of people, you think no one’s gonna get their phone out and capture it? You should see some of the nicknames people are coming up with for you – honest, I don’t know what the kids are gonna think of us when we start school,” Jack noted sourly. “Bad enough having superheroes for Dads, but Internet famous , too?”

“Oh, you got it so rough,” Bucky scoffed. “How’d I look?” he asked Jazz.

“If you weren’t officially my Dad, I’d say ‘hot,’ but since you are, you were okay. I guess. Sorta, in a Dad way,” she shrugged, but the devilment danced in her eyes. Bucky grinned at her as Steve smiled up at Bucky.

&&&

“We good now? Everybody’s, y’know, themselves? Ready to go? Y’know, ‘cos the rest of us have had to wait until you two came up for air to get any of the news. Like, all the good stuff’s been on hold,” Tony was babbling, glaring at Steve and Bucky in turn. It was clear he’d had too much caffeine, and equally clear he’d been waiting far longer than he was used to for gratification. But the soft cast of his eyes told them that he was sympathetic at the same time he was impatient to begin.

“First of all, Captain, Sergeant, I want to thank you again for what you did. We’ve never been able to get this close to the Pack before, and with your help, we’re going to take them out permanently,” Captain Benson told them sincerely.

Both Steve and Bucky seemed to exhale a pent-up breath, relaxing against each other as tension bled out of them both. “I’m glad. Really glad. And the kids? They’re all safe?” Steve prompted.

“I’ll let Ms. Elliott go over that for you later. She’s still working on processing the children, but we believe we’ve got them all in a better situation for the interim.” She straightened and cleared her throat, glancing around at the assembled group – Tony, Pepper, even Happy. Bruce, Nat, Clint, Maria. Sam and Rhodey were on hand, too. Isabelle was missing, probably still working on behalf of those kids. “I’ve shared some information with Sergeant Barnes and the others, but we all agreed we should wait until you were available before getting into the details.”

“Well, good. ‘Cos I’m all ears. We all are.”

&&&

There was still a lot to go through, more interviews, more digging, but so far they’d been able to piece together some of Ralphie Patterson’s transformation into Raphael Diminucci, and the Greater New York Alpha Omega Benevolence Society’s devolution into the Pack.

Their research was aided and abetted by Ralphie himself, in the form of old journals that had been unearthed at the Pack Residence. They revealed a level of cold calculation and fierce intelligence even Steve and Bucky hadn’t credited Ralphie Patterson with. Ralphie had documented it all in neat Copperplate, starting with a nubby pencil, shifting to elegant fountain pen, and graduating to the writing implements of the modern era. Everything was recorded in his own hand. Benson noted they were cross-checking the statements in the journals, seeking independent verification where possible, but the journals themselves painted a very clear picture of an individual who knew what he was doing at every juncture.

As Tony had noted, Ralphie had disappeared – apparently died – in 1940. He was twenty-one at the time, nearly a year younger than Steve, almost two years younger than Bucky. Unlike Bucky, Ralphie hadn’t relied on the Society to find a place to live, to help out when rent was short. No, Ralphie had observed the well-heeled alphas who’d come to the orphanage looking for an orphaned omega to take home with them, had watched for the predatory glint, the fat wallet, and the impressionable ego.

While still at the orphanage, Ralphie had made the rounds of a number of the alphas who’d come a-calling to the orphanage, researching them through the Society, sometimes tested them out, letting them have a sniff, while he gauged the depth of their pockets and the breadth of their influence. Finally, he’d chosen Tobias Drew, an aging alpha with a penchant for young omegas, a deep, deep bank account, and a fair amount of influence on city politics through his various business ventures – both legal and illegal – and his network of friends, many of them equally wealthy and connected, although few were known to be differentiated. Drew donated a lot of money to the Society, but the organization’s leaders had held firm about treating those donations as just that – donations, not payment for access to young omegas. Ralphie’s journal recorded the Society’s concerns about Drew, and that made him a perfect mark for Ralphie’s needs.

He’d started slipping out after orphanage curfew to spend a few hours a couple of evenings a week, buttering up Drew, teasing him with his omega scent, driving the industrialist ever so slightly mad with the promise of what Ralphie could do for him as his scent ripened toward his next heat.

Ralphie learned to do more than service a greedy old alpha’s libido. He started to help around Drew’s office, plying him with questions about the business. Then he started to feed suggestions to Drew, suggestions that were surprisingly useful in expanding Drew’s already impressive fortune.

Drew had quickly fallen into the habit of gifting Ralphie with all manner of treats and prizes, all designed to seduce the enticing young omega into his bed. By the time Ralphie went into heat, Drew was nearly insane with want, and happily and eagerly signed the documents Ralphie slid under his nose, a nose buried in Ralphie’s scent glands while Ralphie’s spare hand undid Drew’s pants buttons to dip his fingers in to tease at Drew’s flaccid dick.

One visit was followed by another, and another, and another, until Ralphie came to visit and never left again. It was 1940. 

Later that year, Drew’s introduced his protégé, Raphael Diminucci, and from that point forward, Drew was never seen in public again without his young companion. The paper trail was flimsy at that point, but it was a lot easier to change your identity in 1940 than it was in the new millennium. Ralphie had simply changed a few details about himself, snagged a new moniker, and Bob’s your uncle, Raphael Diminucci stepped into the sepia-toned world of pre-war New York City. 

Over time, Ralphie became more than the object of Drew’s desire – he supplanted Drew’s closest confidantes, eventually driving a wedge between Drew and his contemporaries – because why would a jealous alpha ever want to share with potential competition for his omega . Within time, Drew was completely isolated from his friends and colleagues, and Ralphie did everything for him. Drew was old, and it surprised no one when he started to become forgetful, a little disoriented, maybe a bit unsteady on his feet. Ralphie was always there to help take care of him, answer his every whim, ensure his safety and comfort.

That was what the outside world saw, supported by a few mentions in the society page of the New York newspapers. In Ralphie’s journal, he detailed the small doses of poison – one that alphas were particularly susceptible to – he began introducing into Drew’s food and drink. By the time the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, Drew was bedridden, and Ralphie – Raphael – never left his side. Everyone who visited commented on the sheer devotion of the young man at Drew’s bedside. Even the rotating nurses spoke of his manners, his kindness, the tears that would well up in his eyes when he spoke of his mentor.

Drew’s influence kept Ralphie out of the draft, and Ralphie’s ministrations kept Drew from recovering. Finally, in the winter of 1943, not long before Bucky Barnes shipped out for Europe, Tobias Drew passed away, leaving his entire fortune to his young friend.

Ralphie continued the donations to the Society, and even escalated them. He ran for and won a seat on the board. By 1943, anyone at the Society who’d known Ralphie Patterson had passed on or been drafted. He wasn’t seen as a draft dodger or conscientious objector – by the members of the Society, he was seen as a widow, in mourning for his beloved alpha. No one thought to question his loyalty, or request an autopsy.

&&&

“Wow, I knew Ralphie was a shit, but I had no idea he was the fuckin’ devil himself,” Bucky swore, shaking his head.

“Buck, language,” Steve admonished, nodding toward the kids.

“He was a creep,” Jazz pronounced.

“And because of him, the Pack took over?” Jack asked in a quiet voice.

Captain Benson shook her head. “For all intents and purposes, Raphael Diminucci – your Ralphie – _was_ the Pack. We’re still sifting through the journals, but it looks like he positioned himself to take over the Society as the war continued. By the time it was over, the differentiated community of New York was in tatters, many members lost in the battlefields in Europe, Asia, and Africa. Ralphie started to shift the focus of the Society, maneuvering for power and getting rid of anyone who didn’t agree with his plans. By the time the war was over, the foundation for the Pack had already been laid within the Society.”

“And all of this can be submitted in court?” Steve asked, lifting tortured eyes to look directly at the police captain.

“All under warrant. There is, however, an area we can’t access via the warrant.”

“Oh? Where?” Bucky asked, curious.

“The Society’s old headquarters in Brooklyn. The building still belongs to the organization, but the keys are held in a bank deposit box. The only person who can access the box is the oldest member of the organization. The bank will not release the box to anyone but the appropriate member of the organization, or their designee. Technically, the Pack treated Diminucci – Patterson – as the oldest. We can’t prove there’s anything in that box that justifies a warrant.”

“It’s written that way? Oldest member?” Pepper asked curiously.

Benson strugged. “Seems odd, but it was a fail safe to ensure there weren’t any inconvenient coups to usurp his power. He’s been the oldest member of the organization for a couple of decades. But, I understand we may have someone who trumps that,” Benson said with an arched and expectant eyebrow. “We’ve got forensic specialists reviewing their accounts and going through their computer records, but we’d really like to get in to take a look at the organization’s pre-computer records. We need to make sure the Pack dies and stays dead.”

Steve elbowed Bucky. “Still got that membership card?”

The grin that Bucky gave them was positively feral and devilish. “Hell, yes, I do,” he answered, fishing his wallet from his pocket. The glances he received from the others were incredulous and stunned, since Bucky’s jeans were practically painted on, yet somehow he’d managed to wedge a wallet in their. He held up the wallet, and made a show of plucking the ancient membership card out, holding it aloft for all to see. “Smithsonian shit is good for something. Let’s go open a box!”

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been really interesting to me as a writer to backward engineer the Pack, to figure out where it came from and how it came into power. Ralphie Patterson started off as a small character in the arc of this universe, and grew into the architect of something horrible and lasting, something that will continue to impact our boys for sometime to come. And there is more to come in the history of the Pack, and the transformation of Ralphie Patterson, omega to Raphael Diminucci, alpha.
> 
> Is something like this impossible? A good organization can become so corrupt it violates every tenet it was based on? A single individual can change the course of history. When that individual considers only their own needs, their own desires, and treats everyone else as subservient to those desires, bad things happen. Humans form communities for a reason - the common good, the common wealth, the common benefit. But when shared institutions are bent to the will of the corrupt, everyone suffers.
> 
> In the chapters to come, we're gonna see Team SuperSoldier get down to brass tacks about realizing the American Dream, and what real American values are. Hint: It's not making one guy richer. :)


	18. Regrouping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which unspoken concerns come front and center and are dealt with head on. And the team is trembling on the brink of another discovery ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think it was that simple, did you?

As it turned out, the bank didn’t have evening hours, so the team was going to have to wait until the morning to mount a dramatic takeover of the Pack’s pre-computer records. It all felt a bit anticlimactic, so eventually the group dispersed, leaving Bucky and Steve to take the elevator with their kids back to their floor.

It only took a few seconds for Bucky to realize that Jazz had inserted herself between Jack and Steve, and that she was looking up at Steve warily, glancing worriedly at Bucky every few seconds.

Well, shit. He thought he knew what her problem was, but they needed to face it head on, and right the fuck now.

“Jarvis, would you please pause the elevator?” Bucky called out in a reasonable tone of voice.

“Buck, what the –“

“We got a problem. Don’t we, Ms. Jazz?”

“No,” she answered, too quickly and in a voice too high to be believable.

“Hey, what’s goin’ on, Jazz?” Jack asked, giving his sister a double-take.

“I think I know, but I wanna hear it in your words, Jazz.”

Steve glanced between them, a worry divot forming between his brows. “Buck?”

“Let her say it. We use our words in this family, sweetie. And we don’t let things fester. So out with it.”

“Did he hurt you?” she asked, lifting her chin toward Steve and all but glaring at him.

“What? No! No, baby, we just … we just had to blow off steam. Everything is fine.”

“You said that being differentiated didn’t define you by your biology, but what about what just happened? Wasn’t that biology?”

“To some degree,” Bucky shrugged, hand shooting out to grab Steve’s as he tried to shy back against the elevator wall. “It’s more a part of PTSD, I think.” He shook his head. “It’s only happened once before, and that was more than 70 years ago.”

“When?” Jack asked, nudging past his sister to look at both men. “How?”

“Is Jack in danger?” Jazz asked coldly, firmly. There, there was the meat of it. There was the real fear.

“No,” Steve answered emphatically. “Never.”

“So it’s not because you’re an alpha and Bucky’s an omega,” Jazz prompted.

“No, not really. It’s more … it’s more this overpowering urge to protect what’s mine to protect. Who I have a responsibility to protect. Back in the war, Buck’s life had been under threat – they’d nearly killed him in that factory, you know. He was so thin, so cold. Out of his head and delirious. And Schmidt and all the men, so many alphas, the air stank with their scents. It was so thick, the walls oozed it. All I knew was to get him to safety, to care for him in every way possible. ”

“You held it together until we got back to camp, but I could see it was wearing on you, the struggle to maintain control. Carter and Phillips could see it, too. They gave us a private billet, away from the camp, so he could work it out, come down from it. So he could take care of me. And you did,” Bucky reassured, squeezing Steve’s hand and leaning over to kiss him on the cheek.

“But it’s like I went away for a little while, overwhelmed with everything.”

“I call it pheromone drunk – all the alpha scents piling up on him. And if he thinks I’m in danger –“

“Something just clicks in my head and I kind of … go away. But you would never be in danger from me, never. You’re my family, my responsibility. I’d do anything to protect you.”

“Y’kinda just did, didn’t you,” Jack pointed out, elbowing Jazz. “Give it a rest, Jazz. These two just risked their lives to take down the Pack so I’d be safe. I’ve read about PTSD, well, a little, since we first met you. You’ll have to train us in the signs. And what we can do to help. If we’re a family, we’re in it together, right?”

Steve let out a breath in a whoosh and smiled warmly at Jack. “Yeah. Mostly we have nightmares, stuff like that. This was so unusual, we didn’t have any reason to expect it – ‘s’only happened twice. But, yeah, we’ll work on it together.” He opened his arms and Jack stepped into his embrace, hugging him fiercely. Steve dropped a kiss on the boy’s head, and then looked up at Jazz over his crown. “Are we okay, Jazz?”

She paused for a breath, then nodded, launching herself at her brother and adopted father. Bucky just chuckled, and added his embrace to the huddle. 

“Okay, J, I think we can start moving again. Thanks!”

“My pleasure, Bucky. I am happy to see you resolve Ms. Jasmine’s concerns satisfactorily.”

&&&

“She was really afraid of me,” Steve said in a small voice, staring into his mug of cocoa. His fingers wrapped around the mug, thumb running up and down the handle.

“She was protecting her brother. She’s fierce, our Jasmine,” Bucky agreed, resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder and pressing a kiss to the skin there. “Kinda reminds me of a little spitfire I had my eye on once upon a time.”

“Yeah? Anybody I know?”

“Passin’ acquaintance, I guess,” Bucky nudged Steve’s head with his own, earning him a small chuckle.

“Jack reminds me of you, to be honest. The steady one to her explosions.” Steve took a sip of his cocoa and then went back to holding the mug.

“Sounds about right. Yin and yang, baby. They’re each what the other needs. Just like you and me. Well, not exactly. But we were brothers first, so yeah. They’ve gotten each other through some really tough times, just like we did.”

They were sitting up in bed together, sharing a quiet moment over hot cocoa and cookies Bucky had stolen from the buffet earlier. He’d handed out a couple to the kids with their cocoa, and then herded Steve to their room to help him decompress.

“I don’t want our kids to be afraid of me.”

Bucky was silent for a moment, then reached over and dunked his cookie in Steve’s chocolate. “Then don’t do anything to make them afraid.” He popped the sodden cookie into his mouth and grinned at his husband.

“’S’not funny. She thought I hurt you, I’d hurt Jack. She believed the horror stories.”

“She’s grown up in a world with the Pack, Steve. With a dwindling population of differentiated people, and a culture afraid to talk about us. We can fix that,” he concluded firmly, grabbing another cookie and crunching down on it.

“How?”

“That job Isabelle offered me? Thinkin’ of takin’ it. Or something like it. With the Pack gone, there’s an even bigger void, but it’s an opportunity to open up the subject, get the right information out there. Educate people so something like the Pack doesn’t happen again. So kids who are born like us don’t have to be afraid.”

Steve straightened and looked directly at Bucky, his face open and awestruck. “You’re fuckin’ amazing, you know that?”

“Yeah, y’think so? Well, only the best for my baby,” Bucky smiled, tipping Steve’s face toward him so he could place a kiss on the tip of his nose. “We make a good team. We’ll figure it out, baby. Don’t expect to have all the answers, huh? We’re gonna make mistakes, and we’re gonna say and do the wrong thing. And then we’re gonna do everything we can to fix it because we love each other and we love our kids. It’s what parents do. So go a little easier on yourself, will ya, buddy? This ain’t no sprint. It’s a marathon, honey.”

“Til the end of the line,” Steve breathed, setting his cocoa down on the nightstand, and turning so he could slide his arms around Bucky’s torso and tug him close.

“Yeah. On a family fare,” Bucky agreed, letting his lips touch and caress Steve’s in a gentle kiss. “Love you, baby,” he murmured against Steve’s skin.

“Love you too,” Steve whispered back. 

&&&

Benson met Steve and Bucky at the bank where the Society maintained its deposit boxes, but stayed in the waiting area while the husbands met with the bank manager. The office was glass-walled, so she was able to observe from a distance, and she’d long ago mastered the art of reading lips, so she had no complaints about the arrangement.

Inside the office, the bank manager simply stared at Bucky and Steve for a long time with his lips parted and his mouth threatening to fall open.

“You are both members of the Society?” he finally squeaked out.

“Yeah, since we each presented. I dunno where my membership card is, but Buck has his,” Steve replied, all earnest Aw Shucks, Cap’s Embarrassed by Your Attention. 

Bucky smirked and pulled out his wallet, presenting the membership card in question.

“I see,” breathed the manager. He looked directly at Bucky then, and swallowed. “And your date of birth?”

“March 10, 1917.”

The manager let out a stuttering breath. “Oh, thank God. You’re older than Mr. Diminucci.”

“By a coupla years, yeah. Only I knew him as Ralphie Patterson. Skinny, obnoxious fella with bad skin and uncontrollable halitosis.” Bucky gave him a shark-toothed grin then, and the manager gave him a weak smile in return. “I understood there was a deposit box,” Bucky prompted.

“Yes. As the oldest member of the Society, I can, by the Society’s contract with the bank, provide you with the key and access to the boxes. Plural. If I may ask, how is it that Captain America and the Winter Soldier are interested –“

“The Pack is dead. We’re making sure there are no loose ends,” Steve replied coldly, rising to his feet.

“Seriously? Oh, that is the best news I’ve heard … well, this year, at least. Let me take you down to the deposit room and get you started. The stories one heard about the Pack,” he shuddered, “I was grateful Mr. Diminucci didn’t visit often, but when he did … ugh,” he shivered again. “And that Mr. Mineo!”

“Mineo accompanied him?” Bucky asked as they left the office. He signaled for Benson to join them. “I hope you don’t mind, we invited Captain Benson to accompany us.”

The bank manager, a Mr. Reynolds according to his nameplate, turned and smiled thinly. “Are you expecting to find something actionable in these boxes, Captain? I can assure you, the bank does not monitor what goes into the boxes – only the owners know.”

“I’m aware, Mr. Reynolds. We don’t know what’s in the boxes, but the one thing we’re hoping to get is the keys to the Society’s old building in Brooklyn. We suspect there are records there that relate to our current inquiries.”

“Very good. There are several boxes, as I noted. A small box contains keys to the various holdings. I’ll get that one for you first.”

“Holdings?” Bucky repeated.

“Yes, the Society owns a number of properties throughout the boroughs, and even beyond. Is that relevant?”

“It could be. Let’s go,” Benson urged.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The discovery that is coming is something I've been itching to write for some time. It'll probably be a couple of days before the next chapter, but it is coming. There are still repercussions from the fall of the Pack to be dealt with, and some surprises coming for the Rogers-Barnes - or is that Barnes-Rogers - household ... Stick with me!


	19. Past is Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky discovers that old membership card is good for more than an ice cream social ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hello there! No, didn't forget, didn't abandon. Just got lots going on, and not a lot of time to do the things I love most, which is writing and being creative.
> 
> And a shout out to my friend Nicole with a cameo by her ship, Fin/Munch. Since it made sense to have Olivia Benson on the ground coordinating law enforcement efforts to take down the Pack, it also made sense she was going to need some of her best guys on the job. And I kinda loved the idea that they might have been inspired by Buck and Steve.
> 
> So, where am I going with this? You thought the story was done, didn't you, once they took down the Pack. There are still things that need to happen before the story is well and truly told. No, I'm not going to turn this into a police procedural. But there are some important discoveries and changes to come for our little family unit, and this chapter was a necessary bridge to one of the most important discoveries Bucky will make in the 21st century.
> 
> Stick with me!

Once they got down to the safe deposit room, they realized they were going to need reinforcements. The Pack – the Greater New York Alpha Omega Benevolence Society – possessed not one, not two, but an entire wall of safe deposit boxes, ranging from small boxes barely two inches high to large boxes well over a foot wide, and just as high. Faced with so many boxes, to ensure the legality of the seizure, Benson determined they should first independently confirm Bucky’s right as the oldest member of the organization to take control of the assets of the Society. For that, they needed a lawyer to review the Society charter. Then Benson was going to need her own team to sort through next steps in terms of evidence recovery.

They’d been cooling their heels over small talk and bad coffee when Vivian Alvarez arrived, followed close behind by Benson’s team, Senior Detective Fin Tutuola and Sergeant John Munch. Now they were all trying to look like they weren’t willing Vivian to read faster as she reviewed the charter, tapping her pen against the pages as she scanned through. Around her sat Bucky, Steve, Benson and her team, as well as Mr. Reynolds representing the bank. He sat with an array of keys before him, ready to open each of the boxes once transfer of ownership was confirmed.

“Yeah, it’s a weird kind of charter, but it clearly states that ownership of the Society and all its assets devolves to the oldest living member. That would be Sergeant Barnes by a couple of years, even if Mr. Diminucci weren’t in custody. His date of birth is recorded as 1919. Both Raphael Diminucci, and Ralph Peterson. This version of the charter was executed in 2001, so I’m guessing earlier versions might have found some other way to identify Mr. Diminucci as principal, but this version definitely identifies the owner of the assets as the oldest living member of the Society. ”

“Wait, so all we had to do all this time was trot out Sergeant Barnes, and we could have waltzed in here at any time and had access to all this?” Munch asked caustically, eyebrow raised perilously high over his glasses.

“Well, we’d never have known that was a possibility without access to the charter,” Vivian replied. “But for the last 15 years, for all intents and purposes, yes. Well, not that long, I guess, you weren’t, um, that is to say –”

“Yeah, I get it. Pretty sure the Asset didn’t give a rat’s ass about the Society’s assets. And since I’ve been back, I’ve been kinda distracted,” Bucky answered snarkily, fingers seeking out Steve’s hand and lacing between his fingers. “But now that we know, the fact that I’m older than Ralphie and can prove I’m a card-carrying member gives me dibs, right?”

“Okay, so we’re clear – we don’t need a warrant to access _any_ of the boxes, or their contents,” Benson summed up, looking directly at Vivian.

Vivian nodded. “According to this, everything belongs to the oldest member of the Society. Including property. And there is no restriction about selling off assets,” she added meaningfully with a glance toward Bucky, who frowned.

Benson breathed out a long sigh and nodded. “Okay. Mr. Reynolds, you were going to open the box with the property keys first,” Benson prompted, Bucky nodded, and Mr. Reynolds jumped to his feet with a grin to start the opening boxes.

While he was doing that, Bucky shook his head, his brow furrowed in a puzzled frown as he turned toward Vivian. “How’d that happen? I mean, back in our day, the Society collected memberships and everybody had a vote. Everybody but this doofus here,” he hooked a thumb toward Steve.

“Oh? Why didn’t you have a vote, Captain Rogers?” Vivian asked curiously.

Steve blushed and ducked his head, earning him an elbow in the ribs and a cackle of laughter from his husband. “Go on, tell ‘er!”

“I thought you couldn’t find your card, Captain,” Benson put in.

Bucky snorted then, and Steve shook his head, face bright pink with his blush. “All right, all right. There’s no card to find. I never officially joined the Society.”

If anything, Munch’s eyebrow arched even higher. “Okay, the suspense is killing me. I gotta know,” he said, deadpan.

“I never joined because Buck lived in omega-only housing. Back then, you had ladies-only hotels, omega-only housing, safe places where people didn’t have to worry about some aggressive guy or knothead who wouldn’t take no for an answer. If I joined, I had to tell them my designation, and they never woulda let us live together. I mean, I’d presented, but nobody would believe I was an alpha the way I looked. So we lived together in the rent controlled apartment, safe. Mr. Willis knew, but he never snitched on us. I didn’t give off enough of an alpha musk to worry anybody – nobody in the tenement cared.”

“He didn’t stink up the place, is how Mr. Willis put it,” Bucky smirked. “So none of the other omegas were bothered. He helped around the place, volunteered at the Society with me, never brought any of his many, many, _many_ street fights back to the place. Shit, everybody shoulda guessed you were an alpha just from the number of black eyes you had, sport. Seriously, though, it’s ‘cos they all liked Steve. He was sweet,” Bucky added with a chuckle, knocking his shoulder into Steve’s.

“I think I might be sick. Who knew super soldiers could be so fucking adorable?” Munch complained, shaking his head.

“If you’re ready?” Reynolds prompted, holding the first box up for inspection. Bucky nodded, and put his prosthetic hand out for it, and Reynolds put the key down in front of him.

Bucky looked up around him, took in the expectant expressions, and chuckled to himself, unlocking the box. “Better’n a peep show, I swear,” he muttered, and lifted the lid, revealing a prodigious array of keys, each attached to a little circular tab with an address written on it.

“Well, that’s a crapton of keys. How do we know which ones we need?” Detective Tutuola asked curiously, peering into the glittering pile.

Bucky was sifting through the keys and quickly found the tag listing the old address of the Society that he remembered from his youth. It was a small storefront, tucked in a narrow space between bigger buildings near the Brooklyn Municipal Building. He held it up, announcing, “Here’s the key you wanted, but what’re we gonna do about all’a these?”

“Oh, you’ll want the property register and the deeds,” Reynolds replied, snapping his fingers and turning back to the bank of boxes. He referred to a card that listed all of the boxes, and waved his finger around in front of the bank until he found the boxes he wanted. He brought those over to pile up on the table in front of Bucky, proffering the keys.

There were several large boxes containing deeds, another a big old leatherbound ledger that they learned detailed all the properties identified in the deeds. They split them amongst them, so that every person there made themselves useful matching deeds and keys, stacking them by neighborhood.

Before long, they had a disturbing picture forming, as many of the deeds were for properties in the most expensive parts of the city, properties inhabited by politically connected individuals who hadn’t appeared to be connected to the Pack previously. There were still some in the poorer neighborhoods, like where Steve and Bucky once lived, but the number of upscale addresses was surprising.

“There’s way more properties here than the accountants found records for,” Fin pointed out gravely.

“This one’s address is familiar,” Munch announced, waving one of the deeds. “Deputy Mayor,” he answered himself, tapping the page with his forefinger.

“Fuck,” Fin swore, curling his lip distastefully.

“Yeah. Looks like we’re gonna need more information, but there could be more arrests coming. Damn,” Benson shook her head. “Even though we don’t technically need a warrant if we have Sergeant Barnes’s permission, I’d feel more comfortable with one.”

“Right there with ya, boss,” Munch agreed. “If we’re goin’ to war with city government, better have all our ducks lined up ahead of time.”

“Wow,” Bucky breathed, lifting one of the older deeds, drawn up on yellowing paper that was brittle and dry with age. “Look at this, Stevie,” he said as he slid the document gingerly toward his husband.

Steve read the address and let out a low whistle. “Wow is right. No wonder nobody ever put up a shrine to Captain America there. It belonged to the Society all this time. Who knew our landlord was the Society itself, huh?”

“Care to share with the class, Cap?” Munch asked.

“It’s our old place. I always thought the Society helped us out with the rent. Looks like they owned the place, so they were collectin’ the rent, too,” Bucky replied. “And Ralphie hated you so much, no way would he allowed a fuckin’ shrine to you, babe.” Steve just shrugged.

Benson sat back in her seat, hand scrubbing gently over her mouth and chin. “We need to get this stuff to the forensic team. There’s a lot to go through. And then we’ve got to start looking into connections – why the people who are living at these addresses are there. Whether they’re paying rent, or there were other favors tendered to the Pack. We need evidence.” She gestured for her team to start collecting the materials, but Reynolds drew himself up and stood in the way.

“Sorry, but without a warrant, I can’t allow anything to be removed from this room, except by permission of the box owner. And that’s Sergeant Barnes.”

Vivian piped up at that, “And I would recommend a full inventory in my presence, with appropriate receipts.”

Bucky was nodding thoughtfully. “Y’know, it’s a safe bet that those families we helped out, they weren’t living at these addresses. So the Society’s got all this fancy property, where’s the money going?”

“Good bet it’s been goin’ into somebody’s pockets,” Fin guessed. “That’s what the forensic accountants are looking at.”

“Well, we’re gonna wanna repurpose some of these properties. There’s gotta be a good place where people can stay while they’re gettin’ help. Pack let them down – least we can do is fix that.”

“Sounds like you’re thinking of being more than _just_ the oldest member of the Society,” Benson observed with a surprised chuckle.

“Damn right I am. I still wanna know how the Society went from a democracy to a tyrant. The people’s the most important thing. We gotta figure out how we can get help to the people in need the fastest way possible.”

Steve watched his husband getting worked up, even as Benson put the brakes on, reminding Bucky that all the properties and assets were going to be frozen until the cases made their way through the courts, but Buck wasn’t having it, and he could see the tempers starting to flare on both sides. Even Vivian’s attempt to cool them down by quoting Bucky’s rights and her concerns regarding due process weren’t enough to chill Bucky down.

As Benson tried to contain some of Bucky’s enthusiasm, and Vivian tried to mitigate, Steve pressed, “But these properties, they belong to the Society. Can’t they be used to house members of the Society displaced by taking down the Pack? And don’t suggest the residence – those people are gonna have nightmares about that place for years to come.”

“I vote we raze it to the ground soon’s we can,” Bucky spat.

Fin and Munch shared an amused glance over the heads of the super soldiers, and Fin murmured, “Social justice warriors in tights, m’man. Who’d’a thought?”

“Ain’t nothin’ new about social justice,” Bucky rounded on him, blue gray eyes shining with fervor. “Stevie ‘n me, we wouldn’t be here today if we hadn’t gotten a hand from our community once in a while. We always paid it back and then some. These people trusted they could rely on the Society to help ‘em out, and it failed them again and again. We’re gonna fix it. These are our people. And goddammit, we are givin’ back.”

“That’s it, Buck. We are giving back. _We_. We have enough set aside we could start a fund for these folks, help them get through until the Society’s assets are clear. Maybe we could even –“

“Launch a fundraiser,” Fin put in. At the disbelieving arch of Munch’s eyebrow, he turned and said, “What? Are you kiddin’? Captain America starts a fundraiser, ev’ry liberal wanting to look good to America’s favorite white gay boy is gonna kick in. It’s a win.”

“I thought I was your favorite white gay boy, Fin,” Munch groused, and Fin grinned, knocking him in the shoulder before reaching over to grab his left hand, fingering the ring there. 

“Sure y’are. But you don’t have Rogers’s shoulders, John. They’re worth a look.”

“Shoulders? What about the shoulder to waist ratio?” Munch replied with an answering grin and a lecherous leer over the rims of his glasses.

“Seriously. You two?” Bucky chuckled.

“Inspired by a certain pair of superhero sweethearts who didn’t let prejudice, ice, or death keep them apart,” Fin acknowledged, nodding toward where Steve and Bucky sat together, hands still clasped.

“Eh. What’s right is right. We belonged together. Simple,” Bucky shrugged, while Steve grinned widely.

“All right, if you boys are done with your love fest, we need to get a warrant. Let’s see if we can hit up Judge Saperstein – she’s a friendly, and she knows how to be discreet.”

“And she’s still carrying a mad pash for our Sergeant here,” Vivian added with a giggle.

“What the hell?” Bucky demanded, twisting in his seat to look at Vivian.

She shrugged. “Word has it you were the heartthrob of certain neighborhoods in Brooklyn in the early ‘60s. You didn’t notice her drooling from the bench?”

Steve and Bucky exchanged glances and shook their heads in unison.

“Oblivious, that’s what the pair of you are.”

“Nope, we just have eyes only for each other. Should I buy her flowers?”

“You can’t be seen to be bribing a judge, Buck,” Steve admonished.

“After this is all over, then. Never let it be said that Bucky Barnes didn’t show a dame respect, right, Stevie?”

“Yeah, yeah, the day you learn not to use the word ‘dame’, we’ll talk about it.” Bucky snorted loudly, eyes crinkling with mirth. Steve knew Bucky had learned that lesson long ago, at the receiving end of Agent Carter’s world-renowned right hook. 

“All right, let’s get this show on the road,” Benson announced, clapping her hands together softly.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was pretty talky, lot of exposition, but I felt there needed to be a bridge chapter leading up to the next one. Which I haven't started writing yet, but I've been thinking about a lot lately. I'm kind of excited about one of the reveals to come.
> 
> Still here? Good! Our journey continues ...


	20. I Know Where I've Been

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky and Steve are hit with yet another shock, and then another. But finally, some good news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter went sideways really fast. I tried to rein it in and not write the creepy stuff, but it insisted on being written. Maybe it's because of all that's going on in my country right now, where one man is systematically trying to strip rights and freedoms from the many, to hand financial boons to the few.

Steve agreed to pose with Mr. Reynolds and sign the bobblehead on his desk for Reynold’s son, promising to sign something for his daughters when he next came to the bank. Then he shyly asked if Bucky would be willing to share a photo with him as well, telling him he greatly admired him, and was relieved and happy that Bucky was taking over control of the Society.

“I have to admit that there’ve been times I felt … unclean, I guess. Working with Mr. Diminucci and Mr. Mineo. But it’s my job, and I didn’t have any evidence, just a feeling in my gut –“

“Learn to trust your gut,” Bucky told him, tapping him lightly with his knuckles against Reynolds’s gut. “And you’re helping now. Maybe you could do some research for us, on how to set up a trust or something – some kind of fund where money can be set aside for people who were victimized by the Pack.”

“Yes. Yes, I can do that. I’ll check in with the attorney who handles charitable trusts, see if he can help us set the groundwork,” Reynolds answered eagerly. 

“You do that, bud. We’ll be back.”

&&&

“Coulda got there faster if we’d’a walked,” Bucky groused from the spacious passenger section of the limo. He and Steve shared the space with Fin and Munch. Benson and Vivian had gone on ahead with Lyft or one of the other car services, Benson claiming she’d had her fill of small spaces filled with testosterone. Bucky knew she really wanted to give her subordinates a chance to totally fanboy over Stevie and him.

“I heard that!” Happy snapped back from his position in the driver seat. Where he sat idle, while traffic outside snarled and spat at drivers brave enough to venture into the tangle that was Manhattan at mid-day.

Bucky pressed back into the luxurious seat with a chuckle, sharing a grin with Steve and waggling an eyebrow at the police officers. He lifted his chin and shouted, “C’mon, Hap! I wanna get home to spend some time with the kids. After all, we just adopted them. And this is their last week before they start at their new school.”

“I don’t care if you’re a super soldier, Barnes! I know where you live!”

Bucky snorted, shaking his head, a deep-dimpled smile on his face, pleased with himself for riling Happy up, even if it was just a game. 

“Got reason to be jealous there, Cap?” Munch asked, jerking his head toward the front seat.

“Of Happy? These two ain’t happy if they’re not yankin’ each other’s chains,” Steve said fondly. “You leave my husband alone, Happy Hogan. I got plans for him later,” Steve called out, and was answered by the sound of Happy gagging. That only made him chuckle more.

“Plans, huh?” Bucky asked, threading his hand into Steve’s. “Gonna have to make an appointment, baby. This whole thing is spirallin’ out of control way too fast. And I really do want to spend some time with the kids tonight.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Steve agreed, absently bringing their joined hands to his lips, brushing a kiss across Bucky’s knuckles. “Can’t believe how much I miss ‘em already, and we just saw ‘em this morning. Sure we can’t just homeschool ‘em?”

“Yeah, right. In whose free time? And don’t you want them to learn useful shit? Y’know, from this century?”

Steve was adult enough that he just stuck his tongue out at his husband, who leaned in to suck it into his mouth, until a pointedly clearing throat brought him back to awareness. He waggled his eyebrows again, this time delivering a clear message, and smiled, settling back into his seat with a smirk.

“So how’s that working out for you two? Parenthood?” Munch asked while Fin chuckled softly under his breath.

“It’s all brand new. Kids’ve only been ours legally for what – four days now. And with all this Pack shit, we’ve hardly gotten to see them,” Bucky shrugged. “Can’t keep ‘em home forever. No matter what this one thinks. They gotta start school. Get out in the world and get on with their lives.”

Fin nodded sagely. “But you kept them out this week. Why?”

Bucky shrugged again. “Still getting everything organized. Pepper took them to get fitted with their school uniforms, and they’ve been burnin’ a hole in the Amazon card ordering supplies. In the meantime, the school sent over school work, assignments to help them catch up before they actually start. We thought maybe, after all that’s happened, it’d be good for them to have a week to … acclimate.”

“I heard Mineo tried to make a big deal about your son’s designation. Saperstein made sure it didn’t make it into the press. How’s he dealing with everything that’s gone down?” Munch asked then, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees.

“Relief, mostly, I think. He’s a bright kid – they both are. He’s having a swell time hanging out with the scientists at the Tower – God help me, but our kid is a fan of Tony Stark. So Tony’s drinking it in.”

“Tony’s crazy about the kid,” Happy shared. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

“I’m squealing on you, Hap. I’m callin’ _the Daily News_ and it’s gonna be front page news,” Bucky chuckled.

“Who cares? Nobody reads newspapers anymore.”

“See, I told you. Nobody reads newspapers anymore, Steve. Happy said,” Bucky announced, smacking Steve square in the pecs with the back of his hand.

“Doesn’t matter. Y’can’t out scandal Tony Stark. So you too – you’re married? And partners?” Steve asked Munch and Tutuola.

Fin glanced at Munch and smiled softly. “Partners first. Then yeah, married. Comin’ up on ten years now. You guys’ve been together a long time.”

Bucky snorted again. So sue him – some things deserved a snort or two. “Ninety some years, plus or minus a war. Bond like ours … it doesn’t get broken. Stretched out and bent maybe, but not broken.”

“Squad goals, for sure,” Munch commented wryly.

“You guys planning on having a family?” Bucky asked then.

Fin’s face clouded over for a second, then cleared as he shook his head. But it was Munch who answered for the couple. “Nah. Too set in our ways. And the things we see … let’s just say it’s hard to let go at the end of the day. Don’t wanna give an impressionable mind any complexes.”

It was Fin’s turn to snort, and he did it so loudly, Munch whipped his head around in alarm. “You’re just afraid you’d end up with a mini-me. The world does _not_ need a short John Munch.”

“Hmmm,” Munch countered, lips pressed together in a thin, disapproving line. Then his whole demeanor softened as he just leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on Fin’s temple. “You’re lucky I love you,” he said softly, and Bucky felt like he and Steve had just been welcomed into some elite club, a club where these two men could be soft with each other, loving. Munch nodded to himself and said, “It’s nice what you did, adopting two older kids. Lotta kids just get chewed up by the system.”

“We were in the system together. We were lucky, and we know it. With everything that’s happened, think we were destined to meet these two kids,” Steve replied, an edge of wonder in his voice.

Bucky leaned forward and just arched a disbelieving eyebrow at his husband, like, “It’s a good thing you’re pretty,” Bucky observed caustically, but there wasn’t any actual heat in it. “Pretty sure Isabelle maneuvered your patriotic ass, baby. She saw a sure thing when we walked through the door.” Bucky turned back to the others, and added, “But that’s okay. Jazz and Jack are great. And, well, Jack’s gonna need us.”

“Need _you_ , you mean,” Steve commented, glancing fondly at Bucky.

Munch leapt on that, like he’d been looking for an opening to interrogate them on the subject. Which, Bucky supposed, was probably exactly what he’d done. “Yeah, your son, he’s, ah, has he …?”

“Any day now,” Bucky agreed. “Jarvis – Stark’s AI – Is monitoring his vitals for us so we can be there for him when it starts. Help him through. Another reason I wanted to keep him home from school. Let him get through it his own way the first time, then he can figure out what he needs to do in the future.”

“Like girls and their you-knows.”

“No, not really. Girls are pretty much _expected_ to go through that every month. Only a small percentage of males are omega, a much lower percentage than when we were young. And even then we weren’t a dime a dozen, y’know? Nowadays, nobody really understands what it means to be male and omega – it’s part of how the Pack got away with their shit for so long. But no, he’s gonna be going through somethin’ most if not all of his peers don’t understand. It’s better if he goes through it the first time surrounded by family, so he has a chance to figure out how he wants to handle it going forward.”

Steve jumped in then, nodding his head. “Don’t think people really understand what it is to be male and alpha – or, God help ‘em, female and alpha. We keep sayin’ this, but it’s like other genders on the spectrum – representation matters, understanding matters, being part of the community matters. It should never have become isolation.”

“We’re gonna have to do some reeducation from within the community,” Bucky agreed.

“Well, now’s your chance, boys. We’re here.”

“Hey, time flies when you’re talking about your kids, huh?”

&&&

“Odafin,” Munch prompted, sliding out and holding the door for his husband.

“Don’t start.”

Steve slid out on his side and held the door for Bucky, greeting, “James.”

“Asshole.”

Benson and Vivian were already waiting for them on the sidewalk outside the dusty and somewhat decrepit storefront. Benson grinned at her men, and asked, “Enjoy the ride with your heroes, boys?”

“Yes, ma’am, thank you, ma’am,” Munch intoned, then let a grin break across his face. “It was wicked awesome, Cap. Thanks a bunch.”

“Surrounded by assholes,” Bucky muttered. 

Fin elbowed him in the ribs and chuckled, “It’s an acquired taste.” At the elevated eyebrow over wide blue-gray eyes, Fin added, “But I’ve grown to like it.”

“Seriously surrounded by assholes. And not in a good way,” Bucky groused, shaking his head in disbelief. Fin just chuckled louder.

“Sergeant Barnes, if you’d do the honors?” Benson prompted from the door, and Bucky moved quickly, pulling the key out of his pocket.

It was really just anticlimactic that the lock opened smoothly, the door swung inward silently, and all that met them was a worn but scrupulously clean office with bookshelves lining the walls, filled floor to ceiling with books upon books, and a single desk laid out with mathematical precision, even the computer monitor was dead center and perfectly level. A quick glance confirmed that the theme of books extended into the rooms beyond as well, stretching back at least 100 feet, and extending up a narrow stairway to several levels of open plan gallery above.

So it was quite a surprise when a tall, thin man of indeterminate years suddenly descended on them out of nowhere, all arms and legs and twitches, claiming, “You can’t be here! You’re not the Alpha! You’re not allowed to be here!”

&&&

Munch and Fin were the first to move, slipping around Steve and Bucky to flank the man and grab his arms, snapping into a formation that kept him trapped between them. He fretted and twitched, his head jerking from side to side, his limbs still moving despite being caught between the two officers. 

Steve shook his head and held up his hand. “Let me,” he suggested, taking a step forward. “We’re not here to hurt you. Would you please calm down for me?” he asked gently, a slight burr to his voice making everyone in the room feel a little more relaxed. A faint echo of his full alpha voice. The man’s eyes, a watery blue behind metal-rimmed glasses, widened a little, betraying not a fear but an open curiosity, almost a sense of wonder. For a moment, he looked like a boy, tow-headed and tousled, belying the prim lines of his suit, the bow tie at his neck, and constant movement of his body. He stilled for a moment, then resumed, but at a gentler pace, so it became obvious that the movements were most likely involuntary, frenzied only when he was agitated. Then he nodded, straightening slightly, and at Steve’s glance, Fin and Munch each let go of the arm they were clutching. Another nod from Steve, and they stepped back. “Who are you?”

“I’m … I’m Ernest Livingston,” the man answered like he was surprised to be asked that, and Steve smiled at him. Suddenly Ernest Livingstone looked like he’d move heaven and earth to see that smile again and again. 

Bucky had to chuckle. He fished out his wallet and pulled out his membership card. “I’m a member. Oldest living. That puts me in charge.”

“You’re not Mr. Diminucci. You’re not the Alpha.”

“No, he’s in police custody. But it doesn’t matter, I’m two years older than he is.”

“You don’t look that old.”

“I am over 100 years old, kid. See?” he waggled the membership card back and forth in front of the guy’s face. And the guy finally focused on the card, squinting behind his glasses to read the contents of the card when Bucky finally stopped messing around with it.

Slowly, Ernest’s hands rose up, seemingly of their own volition, and he reverently touched the corners of the card with his thumbs and forefingers. “You’re James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky Barnes …” he whispered, awestruck. Then he looked at Steve again, recognition dawning across his face. “Three two five five seven oh three eight,” he said breathlessly, repeating the sequence over and over as he suddenly pirouetted out of the reach of the two policemen and dashed back into the stacks. 

“What the –“ muttered Fin as he turned to chase, as Munch shouted, “Hey!” Benson ordered him to stand down, to let them see how this played out.

Bucky took an unbelieving step backward, feeling breathless and unmoored. 

“Buck, you okay?” Steve asked, smoothing his big hands over Bucky’s shoulders.

“My serial number, Steve. How’d he know my serial number?”

“I dunno, Buck. It was never on display at the Smithsonian. Hey look, he’s comin’back.”

Ernest carried two volumes like all the rest that surrounded them, holding them on the flat of his palms like they were something precious. “Here,” he said, stepping between Munch and Tutuola, offering the top book to Bucky.

“What is this?” Bucky asked warily, but took the book anyway.

“It’s you. Your legacy. Where you’ve been. Where you’re going. You were supposed to have beautiful babies. But the war took you. But now you won’t have beautiful babies. Because of what they did to you.” And then he raised his eyes to look at Steve. “Steven Grant Rogers. Five four nine eight five eight seven zero. You weren’t supposed to have beautiful babies. You were supposed to die. Your line dies with you.” He handed Steve the second book.

“Thank you,” Steve answered dubiously, but took the book and cracked it open. The first few pages were a genealogy of the Rogers line on his father’s side, and the Fitzgerald side on his mother’s. His eyebrows rose as he followed the neatly drawn lines and boxes, breathing, “I had cousins,” as though he’d been given the greatest gift in creation, only to have it snatched away as soon as he reached for it. Bucky hadn’t opened his book yet, watching his husband closely for signs of distress, and now he closed the gap between them, placing his hand over Steve’s where it held the pages down to read.

“Baby?”

“My Ma. She had a brother. I never heard her talk about him. I often wondered if her family didn’t approve of her marrying Dad. But she had a brother, and he had a son and a daughter, according to this. Both died in the war.”

“Is this true? What’s in these books? Is it true?” Bucky asked Ernest then, and Ernest nodded quickly. 

“All researched, all verified. The bloodlines must be followed, can’t lose the thread, can’t lose the line, hafta know where the line is going, blending the lines, forecasting the outcome, predicting the offspring, planning the bondings, I … yes. Yes, yes, it’s all true,” Ernest replied frantically, nodding rapidly.

“Blending the lines? Forecasting the outcome? What does that mean, Ernest?” Steve asked then.

“It means planning who would have babies to create the desired result. Combine the bloodlines of families carrying the gene. To strengthen the pool. The gene pool. To ensure survival of the bloodlines –“

“To make sure that families produced omega and alpha children,” Steve guessed, frowning.

“You weren’t supposed to have babies. You were supposed to die young. The Alpha would have taken your mate then. The bloodlines would blend, and there would be many omega and alpha babies.”

Bucky opened his book then, nausea swirling around inside of him. “The Alpha would have taken your mate then.” He had no illusions as to who “the Alpha” was for this Ernest dude. Ralphie. Ralphie had somehow planned to force a mating once Steve died. Well, they fucking fooled him, hadn’t they? Bucky felt his nostrils flare and his breath come quick as he willed the rising nausea down again. 

He dropped his eyes to look at the neatly arranged boxes of names and dates, the lists of children from each marriage, each mating. Grit his teeth as he turned page after page, and finally found his generation, his name, his sisters’ names, and ran a finger along the line of his life, saw Steve’s name written next to his, faded notations he had to concentrate to make out.

“Poor bond. Weak alpha. Unlikely to survive. Reassign when widowed.”

The nausea churned and spat in his stomach, burning at the back of his throat. There it was, in black and white. Eugenics. The Society had known about him and Steve after all. Maybe Mr. Willis had told on them, maybe someone else in the building. Maybe he’d been under surveillance. But they’d known about the bond between him and Steve, and they hadn’t been concerned because they hadn’t expected Steve to live. And when Steve was gone, when he’d’ve been crushed by the intolerable weight of mourning his mate, the love of his life, they’d’ve pushed him into a new bond so he could push out a kid on whatever schedule they’d dictated.

The Society had been the Pack even in their own time. 

He didn’t notice the fact that his prosthetic hand was breaking the book even as he stared into space.

“Buck?” Steve asked gently, his voice hollow and distant, like he was falling away down a long, empty shaft. Down and down and down and –

“Buck!” Steve demanded more urgently, pulling the book out of his hand and grabbing his face, forcing him to look at him.

“How long?” Bucky asked, his voice shattered.

“How long what, Buck?”

“How long has the Pack been planning people’s lives, telling them who to marry, who to have children with? _How long?”_

“1951,” Ernest said simply.

“1951?” Steve asked, puzzled.

“The year the Alpha took over officially.”

“And before that?”

“He was one of the archivists before me. He started in 1938. Back then, the records were kept to help families find each other. A record to find next of kin. Like the Mormon genealogy records. But he didn’t just record, he _planned_. I record. I forecast, I make predictions based on probabilities, but I don’t make decisions. That’s the Alpha’s job.”

“So the Society already kept track of who was marrying who, which –“

“Which bloodlines were joined, which bloodlines were at risk. Which bloodlines to allow to die off,” he added, looking pointedly at Steve. “Which bloodlines to save.”

“And what did it do with this information?” Benson asked suddenly, pushing her way forward to stand in front of Ernest, causing him to twitch and jerk with anxiety.

He was silent, staring at her fearfully, and finally Bucky realized he was looking for direction. “You can tell her, Ernest.”

“Until the Alpha rose to power, the Society just recorded. Provided assistance where needed, where asked, but nothing more. Once the Alpha was in charge, the Alpha chose who would marry. The Alpha chose what children had to be added to his family. Whose families had to die. The Alpha chose what families could have children, who had to have more.”

Benson shifted back slightly, mouth open in horror as it sank in. Ralphie had been systematically abusing his position with the Society to not only kidnap children, but to orphan them so the kids were no longer protected by families. He was probably behind the deaths of Jazz and Jack’s parents. This was more than child abuse, as horrible as that was. It was more than sexual slavery, human trafficking. This was murder. This was everything that was horrible about the worst of humanity, all started by one man, and all these people running the Society had allowed it to happen. Over the course of nearly seventy years, this was genocide.

What threat did Ralphie Patterson wield that had held so many people in thrall for so long? How had he gotten away with it all? Then Bucky remembered those properties, those high-ranking city officials. He felt cold blast outward from his heart to his extremities. How wide did this conspiracy actually extend?

“And if someone didn’t agree with the Alpha?” Bucky asked then, afraid to hear the answer.

Ernest looked around the storefront, at the bookshelves lined with hundreds, thousands of books. He shrugged, and turned back to them. “Their story would end,” he answered simply.

“How?” Benson pressed.

“He’d cross them out,” Ernest gestured toward the books with a wave of his hand. “Tell me to put the book back on the shelf. There was no more about them after that.”

“We need to get a forensic team in here to review these books. There’s more here than we can examine ourselves. John, Fin, coordinate with CSU to get a team down here to start looking through these. Start with the names of the people recovered from the mansion first – let’s find out their story, maybe we’ll find something that will help them. And barring that, maybe we’ll find something that will give them closure. And let’s hope there’s evidence we can use to see how far this goes. I can’t … I can’t believe this has gone on _so long_.” She turned back to Ernest. “Ernest, how are the books arranged?”

Ernest looked to Bucky again, and Bucky nodded, suddenly feeling the need for air. He turned and walked out of the office, pushing passed Fin and Munch, shoving through the door, and dropping to his knees on the sidewalk beyond, where he sucked in air in great lungs-full. He ignored Happy getting out of the limo to check on him, ignored the pedestrians streaming past who looked down at him like he was scum, not a man finding that everything he’d relied on to be true was an elaborate sham, an illusion of good in the world. Then Steve was there, hands on his shoulders, his body a solid, comforting presence, ready to envelope him if that’s what he needed. Bucky shifted back so he rested against the miraculous fact of Steve. Yeah. Whenever the world tilted on its axis, Steve was still there. His true north. His center. The one truth of his life that he would never lose. Had never lost. Steve had brought him back to himself, and Steve was his past, present, and future. Steve always gave him what he needed, even when he didn’t know what that was.

“You were on the list, baby,” he whispered when Steve pressed his lips to his temple and rested his cheek against Bucky’s. “If Ralphie’s been in charge then, you’d’a been a goner. All so he could fuck me himself. There isn’t a pit in hell deep enough for that monster.”

“He’ll have company in hell, Buck. I asked Ernest how he knew your serial number. He told me Ralphie gave it to him. And that Ralphie got it from Arnim Zola when he worked for the SSR after the war.”

Bucky did throw up then.

&&&

After Bucky cleaned up, and confirmed his approval to Benson that her people could access the records stored at the old Society headquarters, Steve, Bucky, and Vivian all left the police to do their work. Ernest stayed on to assist, at Bucky’s request. He seemed quite happy to do the bidding of the “new Alpha,” even if Bucky was an omega and proud of it.

They dropped Vivian at her office, and then Happy headed back to the Tower. Bucky was silent, arms wrapped around himself as he pressed back against the plush seat of the car. Where he’d really like to be pressed is up against Steve’s scent glands, burying his face in the essence of his husband, drinking him in, letting his scent surround and soothe him. Instead, he stared into the middle distance, trying to parse everything he’d learned today.

Beside him, Steve had both books that Ernest had given them, Steve’s near empty volume, and Bucky’s … he didn’t know. He didn’t look at anything beyond the death sentence whoever had written for Steve. Ralphie, probably. All in official speak, but he counted himself lucky now the pair of them had survived their own “kind” long enough for others to transform them so they could be together in the present day. If Ralphie’d been in charge when he wrote those comments, chances are Steve would’ve had a fatal heart attack, or an asthma attack that marijuana cigarettes and steam couldn’t have helped. Bucky would have faced a future without him. And given the past he’d had without his mate and without his mind, he knew that if he’d lost Steve back then, Ralphie would’ve never had his chance at him – Bucky would have followed Steve without hesitation.

“I don’t want you to look at this book just yet, Buck, but there _is_ something I think you should see,” Steve said softly, nudging the book over toward Bucky. It wobbled a little, unbalanced by the bent cover where Bucky’s metal fingers had started to crush it.

Bucky refocused to where Steve tapped on the page with his forefinger.

_Rebecca Barnes Proctor. Alpha. Activist._

_They’d followed his sisters._ They’d known where they were, even as Bucky never heard from them again. And Rebecca had presented alpha. Activist for what, though? He lifted his eyes to Steve, who smiled gently at him, handing him his phone.

His baby sister had been responsible for coining the term “differentiated.” Led the fight for omega rights in the 1960s, successfully ran for Congress in the 1970s, where she served multiple terms for the state of Indiana, writing numerous bills introducing legislation to extend rights to omegas, to women, to people of all races, ethnicities, color, all phases of the sexuality spectrum. From the ash of his heart rose a fiery pride that his sister had become a warrior queen.

Sister of James Buchanan Barnes, the only member of Captain America’s team, the Howling Commandos, to fall in battle. Responsible for the Barnes Memorial at Arlington Cemetary.

Rebecca hadn’t forgotten him. He closed his eyes to the tears that started to fall, blotting out the terrible number that indicated the year she’d died. They’d missed each other by more than a decade. But she’d burned bright and fierce and strong.

And he’d carry on her work into this new century.

“And look at this, Buck,” Steve prodded gently. Bucky’s eyes dropped to where Steve pointed.

Nieces. Nephews. Grandnieces, grandnephews, and down the generations.

“You got family, Buck. Becca and Annie and Gracie’s families.”

Bucky turned then and took the book out of Steve’s hand, slid his fingers in between Steve’s, and reached up with his other hand to grasp Steve at the back of his neck, pulling him down into a kiss.

“I’ve always had family, Stevie. ‘Cos I’ve always had you. And now we got our kids. That’s enough family for me. For now,” he added with a smile, chasing Steve’s lips again.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was exhausting. Don't worry, I'm not going to over complicate this with a huge Hydra sub-plot. There's a connection forming in my head, but it's not going to take over the story. The seeds of the connection have already been mentioned in the story.
> 
> Next chapter we get back into the family dynamics while the police do what they need to do in the background. Which follows no real-life rules, since this is an AU, with additional vulnerable populations, and additional laws not present in our world. There needs to be some private time for Steve and Bucky, too, to process everything that's happened this week. And there's still Friday to come ... :)
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you think.


	21. Respite Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an evening of domesticity restores the balance in the Barnes-Rogers household - or is that Rogers-Barnes? We actually find out in this chapter.
> 
> Have some family life, with a side of love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the boys have had some shocks. What better way to deal than to surround themselves with the people they love?

They held hands riding up the elevator, and Jarvis was efficient but non-intrusive in his greetings. No small talk, just a comfortable bubble of quiet. They’d confirmed the kids were on their level, so they weren’t making any detours to the more populated social level. As least not right now, not when Buck was feeling so shattered and Steve was feeling so angry.

The elevator opened onto their floor, and Jarvis took the liberty of unlocking their front door. Their apartment only took up a portion of the floor because neither Steve or Bucky had been able to think of anything to do with more space, but Tony hadn’t assigned living quarters to anyone else on the floor anyway. But in case he did, there was a separation from the elevator and the apartment, to maintain privacy. And Buck had also felt that was more secure – if something got into the elevator, there was the buffer of the hallway and another security door.

So they opened the door to their apartment, and stopped for a moment to look at the homey scene that met them – Jazz curled up at one end of the couch, cheek resting on her crossed arms over the armrest, while Jack laid upside down at the other end, his legs propped against the back of the couch, and his head dangling down off the cushion. Some screechy movie with a monster pursuing a bunch of photogenic teenagers blared on the TV. Or maybe it was a bunch of photogenic teenagers chasing a monster. Sometimes it was hard to tell.

What they did know, however, was how wonderfully, mundanely, perfectly homey it was to walk into their apartment and find their kids hanging out. _Their kids_. It just didn’t get old.

Bucky straightened then, somehow finding energy and joy in the face of their family, and turned to kiss Steve on the cheek. Next thing Steve knew, Bucky launched himself across the room and landed with a huff on the couch cushion between Jack and Jazz. Jazz screamed, pounding Bucky with a pillow, while Jack tumbled ass over crown onto the floor, grumbling as he unwound himself from himself.

“What the heck! You’re back, finally!” reprimanded Jazz.

“We’re starving,” commented Jack.

Bucky stuck out a hand to help Jack up, and he hauled him back onto the couch next to him. “What, you dunno how t’use a refrigerator? It’s easy, you walk up to it, you open the door, you get food out, and you eat it,” Bucky recounted pedantically, the grin in his eyes flickering over his lips until he gave into it and let it fly.

Jazz pouted. “Nothin’ worth eating. We were invited up to eat with Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark –“

“And Dr. Banner – “ Jack added helpfully.

“But …” Jazz shrugged.

“Yeah?” Bucky prompted.

Jazz seemed to make herself smaller, ducking her head as she answered, “We were hoping we could just have a _family_ dinner. We haven’t seen you in like days. Not since we legally became a family.”

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky answered, lifting his arm so Jazz could tuck herself under. Steve smiled to himself then – it was Bucky’s left arm, and Jazz cuddled up under it like it was nothing unusual. Jack had righted himself by now and was sitting with his knees drawn up, back against the arm rest, facing Buck and his sister.

“Are you done yet?” Jack asked, leaning forward to rest his chin on his knees. Steve wandered over and sat – properly and without propulsion – in one of the chairs.

“No, but things should start quieting down a bit now,” Steve replied. “The police are working on sifting through the evidence, following the leads. We – well, Buck – just had to open the door.”

“I’m not sure I … I’m not sure I wanna go to school if they’re still out there,” Jack admitted in a small voice, and quickly buried in face against his knees.

“Hey, hey, there, Jack. We got the worst of ‘em. Ralphie’s not gonna get out, and he’s not gonna come after you. Besides, as smart as Ralphie thought he was? He did something really, really stupid.”

“Oh, yeah, epically stupid,” Steve agreed.

“What?”

“He had the Society rewrite its rules so he’d always be in charge.”

“Well how’s that gonna help me, huh?”

“He worded it so the oldest member of the Society was in charge. Owned everything,” Steve supplied.

And Jack turned to him with an incredulous expression, his eyes wide and his hands slicing through the air to say, “So what?”

“So … Ralphie’s not the oldest living member of the Society,” Bucky said matter of factly, shrugging.

“So … who is?”

“Your Dad, that’s who,” Bucky told him smugly. “That’s right, asshole set his own damned self up. It’s all mine, even if he were to get out of jail. I’m two years older.”

“But that means …”

“Nobody knew that’s what the charter said til the cops started searchin’. We know now, and we’re takin’ the fuckin’ thing apart. And we’re gonna put it back together again, the way it’s supposed to be.”

“And that sounds like a good cue to think about dinner. Takeout, or …?”

“Could we make a pizza. Together?”

“Think you’re talkin’ multiple pies, but I’m game. You want in on this culinary action, baby?”

“Think I’m gonna sit this one out, Buck. Got some calls to make.”

“Calls!” Jazz snapped her fingers, straightening out of Bucky’s embrace. “Izzy called. You gotta call her back. She wants you to come in to see her tomorrow. She said you might want to bring us, too.”

“Izzy. Got it. I’m gonna go in the office for a bit – gimme a shout when the ‘za is ready, okay?”

“Za?”

“Don’t ask,” Bucky shook his head. “Friggin’ hipster,” he shouted fondly to Steve’s retreating back.

&&&

Steve settled into the “office” – the room that had many purposes and no real purpose, but had a desk, a computer, and a phone, so it became the de facto office since that was its most recognizable function. He pulled put his phone and made several calls, jotting down notes on the notepad that always sat on the desk, mostly unused.

“Hi, Pep. I wanted to thank you for looking after the kids,” Steve opened the conversation.

“You’re calling me to say that? Steve, you’re only a few floors below us. Come up and have dinner with us.”

“Thanks, Jazz said you invited us. We took a family vote and decided we wanted to have a family meal together, just the four of us. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind? I think that’s great. You and James – you’re going to be such wonderful parents. The kids are crazy about you – a little in awe, maybe, but that’ll wear off soon enough. They’re great kids, and I enjoy being around them. But I will admit that I am enjoying rent-a-kid – no worries about me feeling like my nest is empty.”

“No? No urge to start a family?”

“Nope. I’ll just borrow yours when I get the urge. If that’s okay with you?”

“More than okay. We’re all lucky to have you, Pep.”

“Yeah. I’m kinda lucky to have you, too. Give me a dose of reality when I’ve spent too much time with Tony.”

Steve chuckled at that. “Yeah, I can see that. Is he around?”

“In his lab, where else? I can have him call you …”

“Nah, thanks. I’ll call him myself. Hey, if he’s in his lab, and you’re where you are – how are you doing dinner?”

“Well, at this point, alone, I guess –“

“Nope. You’re coming to our place. Buck and the kids are making pizza. I can’t promise quality, but I can promise quantity. And good company. Whadya say, Pep? Let us do something for you for once.”

“Promise me no anchovies, and you’re on. When?”

“Anytime. I can hear them bashing around in the kitchen now. Place’ll be a bit lived in, but it’s homey.”

“I’ll head on down. Thanks, Steve.”

Next, to business.

“Yeah, hi, Isabelle. Jazz said you called?”

A few minutes later, and they – the entire family – had an appointment with Isabelle for the following morning. Steve figured they could hit the diner for a big breakfast, and head over to meet with Isabelle. Her comments on the phone were, well, intriguing. But he thought he might not let on what she’d said to him, and let the whole family enjoy a surprise.

Next up, he pulled out Captain Benson’s card and dialed, hoping he wasn’t interrupting her dinner.

“Hi, Cap, what can I do for you?” she greeted over the line.

“Steve, please. Not wearing my Cap hat right now,” he told her.

“Okay. What’s up?”

“I was hoping to ask you a favor.”

“A favor. A favor after all you’ve done for the children of this city this week alone, Steve? I’d say you’ve got a bank of favors to call in, and then some. What can I do?”

He explained about his quick conversation with Ernest, the fact that Ernest knew Buck’s Army serial number, even though it had never been published anywhere. He outlined his concerns, and finally asked her if she could have her people reviewing the diaries and records to look out for the name “Zola.”

“You think the Pack was in bed with this guy?”

“I think there might be a Hydra connection, yeah. I think … I dunno what I think, but I need to know more. If there really is a connection, this may even be bigger than we thought.”

“We’re about to take down the deputy mayor, Steve. How big we talking?”

“Zola’s the scientist who experimented on Buck. In Germany, during the War.”

“Holy crap.”

“Yeah. Could be just a coincidence. Could be more. I gotta know. For Buck’s sake, I gotta.”

“No, I get that. Any other names CSU should be flagging?”

Steve thought long and hard on that, and finally decided on the other big names they knew from Hydra – Pierce. Stern. Schmidt. Even Sitwell. Rumlow.

“Right, I’ll let the team know these are priority flags. I’ll let you know what they find, okay? And Steve? You guys did good, you know? You did what no one else had been able to do, and you did it without a single shot fired. You made a difference.”

“Yeah, thanks, Captain –“

“Olivia. If America’s favorite icon is going to let me call him Steve, I think it’s time you called me Olivia. Okay? Now, get some rest. Let us do our jobs, and you spend time with those gorgeous kids of yours. And that hunky husband,” she concluded with a chuckle.

“Yeah, thanks, I will.”

The next call took him a little time to make, struggling as he was with the request, and his urge to respect someone’s privacy. Finally, he heard the sounds of the kids giggling, and Bucky’s laugh ringing true, and that was enough for him to make up his mind. 

“Yeah, hi, Tony? I was hoping you could do me another favor.”

“Another favor, he says. Like you didn’t just accept my help taking down the creepiest bunch of fuckers this side of Nazi Germany. When you ask for favors, Cap, amazing things happen. What can I do for you this time?”

“I need some help tracking someone down …”

&&&

In the end, both Pepper and Tony joined them for dinner. Steve had invited Bruce, too, but he’d begged off, citing a previously scheduled call with Helen Cho to go over progress on a joint project they were working on. It was nice, comforting even, to spend a quiet evening with the kids and Pepper and Tony. Bucky was in a good mood, the time spent with the kids in the kitchen having rejuvenated him. Steve sat there swirling his wine, looking over the rim at the man he loved, turned to take in their amazing kids, their incredible friends, and judged himself blessed. 

“Well, I think you’ve spoiled me. From now on, I’m gonna need regular infusions of Pizza a la Barnes-Rogers.”

“Rogers-Barnes,” Steve corrected automatically.

“You two still haven’t worked that out? You’ve been married, what, two years now?”

“Bonded way longer than that,” Bucky interjected, taking a sip of his wine. It might not do anything to either of them, but it tasted good when paired with the right meals. Beer would’ve been good, too, but they’d cracked open the bottle Pepper bought, and the several others Tony carried behind her, and it was good. “Stevie just doesn’t wanna face facts – alphabetical makes better sense.”

“Barnes-Rogers. Rogers-Barnes,” Pepper repeated several times, and then shook her head. “Barnes-Rogers flows better. I vote for Barnes-Rogers.”

“See?” Bucky lifted a shoulder flirtatiously and drained his glass with a smirk.

“You bribed her with food!” Steve exclaimed, mock hurt.

“I’ll have you know that I’m unbribable!” Pepper rejoined, lifting the bottle from the ice bucket to fill up Bucky’s glass again. “It just sounds better.”

“Better sack up there, Cap. When Pep makes a pronouncement, it usually sticks,” Tony put in.

“Don’t we get a vote?” Jazz asked trying to sneak her glass over so Pepper would give her a taste of the wine. Pepper held up the bottle and looked from Bucky to Steve, her eyebrow raised expectantly. Bucky shrugged, so Steve caved, and Pepper poured a little wine into Jazz’s glass. Jack immediately stuck out his glass as well, and got just as much wine. Just enough to taste.

Both kids tried the wine, and both kids made gagging noises.

“Yech! No thanks,” Jazz announced, jumping up from the table to go wash out her glass. Jack was right behind her. “No fair talking about us while we’re gone!”

“I really have the urge to talk dirt now, but since they’re just kids … we’ll pick on the parents. So, Cap, parenthood looks good on you. You too, Barnes. Think you kinda hit the lottery there with those two.”

“Just because Jack’s a fan, and Jazz wants to _be_ Pepper …”

“I’ll admit, youthful enthusiasm and a quick mind are very attractive qualities. He’s got the makings of a good scientist.”

“Jazz is bright, too. Creative and talented. It’ll be interesting to watch. I don’t think you have anything to worry about, boys.”

“What’d we miss?” Jazz demanded as she flung herself into her seat, while Jack moved a little slower, wincing slightly. Steve and Bucky exchanged a glance, and Bucky lifted his chin slightly, scenting the air. He nodded infinitesimally, and Steve relaxed. Jack’s heat was starting.

“You were gonna cast your vote. For the family last name.”

“Oh. That’s easy. Barnes-Rogers. It just flows better.”

“Sorry,” Jack agreed.

“There. Finally. Can we say that’s official? We are the Barnes-Rogers clan.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine. Easy for you to say. I gotta learn a new last name.”

“You’ll get over it, cupcake. So, dessert?”

&&&

Dinner with the Starks and the Barnes-Rogers was a surprising hit, with easy conversation and no tension, the topics dancing from Tony’s latest project to Pepper’s latest art acquisition, to the possibility of Fashion Week tickets for Jazz, to Jack interning with Bruce. Never once did the conversation veer to the Pack, or what Steve and Bucky had been doing with their days since their court appearance only a few days prior.

Finally, Jazz and Jack both were flagging, and Pepper and Tony graciously excused themselves – well, Pepper did, and she just grabbed Tony by the scruff of the neck and hauled him along in her wake. And he grinned over his shoulder at the family, tossing a little wave their way. Tony was always happy to follow where Pepper lead him, and she knew it.

When they’d gone, Steve volunteered to make hot cocoa for the kids to have before they went to bed, provided both teens took care of their nightly rituals. That gave Steve and Bucky a few minutes to confab before the kids were back in the living room.

“It’s really starting, right?” Steve asked Bucky urgently, his voice soft but within the range he knew Bucky could hear. How different from when they were kids, and Steve’s poor hearing meant that Bucky shouted more than he whispered, and secrets were things other people got to keep.

“Rock solid. I’m gonna go get the kit I made up for him. I’ll leave it in his room, and after we finish our chocolate, I’ll go over it with him.”

As Bucky made to move away toward their bedroom to retrieve the box for Jack, Steve shot out his hand and captured Bucky’s wrist. “You’re a great dad, you know that, right? You’re exactly what Jack needs right now.”

“Right back atch’ya, champ. Thinkin’ we got so many lotteries rigged, we got all the luck in the world, baby,” he added, stepping back to brush his lips over Steve’s. “But chocolate, hot. You promised. I’ll have a bit of cinnamon and some little marshmallows, okay? You know the way I like it,” he grinned, and trotted off.

Steve knew _exactly_ how Bucky liked it. And he had every intention of giving it to him. As soon as he had him alone and all to himself.

&&&

They enjoyed their hot cocoa and a couple of cookies as they sprawled around the living room together. Steve realized he was going to have to rethink the whole cocoa and cookies after tooth brushing scenario if he wanted to keep the kids out of the dentist chair, but for now, there was comfort in the building of a ritual, a shared pleasure that all of them could indulge in. He hid his cat-in-the-cream smile in his mug, breathing in the rich chocolatey aroma, and closing his eyes to ride the wave of innocent pleasure.

“Any idea what Isabelle wants tomorrow, babe?” Bucky asked, blowing across the surface of his cocoa. Steve could see the marshmallows bobbing from where he sat across from him.

“Just tyin’ up some loose ends. Figured we’d grab breakfast at the diner, then head over.”

“Then what? Grab lunch at another diner?” Jazz teased.

“It’s a good plan,” Jack approved, nodding his head sleepily over his mug. “Eating our way through New York. Works for me.”

“Me, too,” Buck admitted, scratching absently at his stomach. Steve had to smile. They both knew what it was to be hungry, to be unsure how they’d scrape together the money for another meal. They knew how not to waste. But that didn’t mean they weren’t about to enjoy everything that this century had to offer.

“Okay, eating tour of New York, check. But our appointment is in the morning, and if we want to have time to chow down, we all need to be heading to bed.”

“Yeah, he gets to be the boring Dad. I’m the fun Dad, right? Am I right? Huh, huh?” Bucky cajoled, and found himself hit with a barrage mini-marshmallows. He squawked and complained loudly, while everyone else just started laughing. Then he joined in, too.

“Okay,” he clapped his hands together. “Drink up, and let’s hit the hay.”

“Five more minutes,” Jazz mumbled, not looking up from her cocoa.

“Looks like it’s past somebody’s bedtime,” Steve suggested mildly. “C’mon, Ms. Jazz – I’ll take your mug, you get yourself moving,” he offered, levering himself back out of his seat to retrieve her mug before it tipped over in her hands. “C’mon, sweetie – you’re falling asleep where you sit.”

“Mmm,” Jazz agreed, relinquishing her mug and shuffling to her feet. Then she held her arms up, waiting to be picked up. Steve glanced toward Bucky, who shrugged and chuckled, then set the mug down on the coffee table and lifted his daughter in his arms, carrying her toward her bedroom. Bucky scrambled up on the back of his chair to place a kiss on her forehead, and she smiled sleepily in response. Steve opened her bedroom door gently and carried her into the room, pulling the covers back so he could lay her down in her bed. She immediately curled onto her side, sighing contentedly into her pillow. 

Steve bent to kiss her on the cheek, and as he went to straighten, she asked softly, “Is Bucky going to help Jack out? His heat is starting.”

Steve gestured for her to scooch over, and she did, letting him perch on the edge of the bed.

“We know, sweetie,” he answered in a quiet voice meant just for her. He smoothed her hair away from her face, smiling at how young she looked. “And yes, Bucky has a kit all made up to help Jack. We’re not gonna let him go through it alone, and we’re gonna do everything we can to make it as easy as possible on him. We’re here for you, Jazz. We’re here for you both.”

“Knew we made the right choice,” she murmured. “We’re safe.”

Her eyes drifted shut and he leaned forward to press his lips once more against her forehead. Then he stood up and tucked her in, turning off the light as he left the room and closed the door behind him.

“Your turn next, Jack,” he said, smiling. “Gimme a hug good night, huh?”

Jack shuffled over to Steve and draped his arms around Steve’s middle, resting his head against Steve’s chest. “G’night, Steve,” he muttered. Then Steve righted him and turned him back toward his own room, where Bucky stood at the door. He smiled at his husband, and Bucky’s gave him a thumb’s up, opened the door, and followed Jack into the bedroom.

Steve made his way back to their bedroom, knowing that their son was in good hands.

&&&

“So, I got you something,” Bucky announced without preamble, grabbing the box from Jack’s bedside table and putting into the teen’s hands. The box was actually a fairly cool Iron Man lunch box that Bucky had picked up on a whim the before they’d gone to court, and he thought it would bring a smile to Jack’s face.

Which it did, although that smile fell away a little when he thumbed open the latch and opened the box. “Is this …?”

“Heat kit, yet. It’s here, isn’t it, Jack? Your first heat.”

Jack nodded slowly, casting his eyes downward. Bucky caught his chin with his thumb and raised the boy’s face back up. “You do not get to feel ashamed about who and what you are, Jack. What’s happening to you right now is 100% natural and normal. We just gotta figure out what normal means for you, and how to make you as comfortable and at ease with your body as possible.”

“You know I don’t wanna be like this. I just want it to go away. Why can’t I have surgery or something to take it away?”

“If that’s ultimately what you want, we’ll look into your options to help you find the one that’s best for you. But not yet – you’re still developing, your body is still forming. The risks are too great right now. Once you’ve finished growing, the risks drop tremendously. And if you still want to change, Steve and I will support you 110%.”

“You been doing your research, huh?”

“I know you’re unhappy. But I’m hoping this kit will help, I’m hoping we can help.” Bucky pointed out the various items in the tin – suppositories to help dry up the slick and neutralize his scent – stronger than what he had in court – and energy bars to help with the cravings that might start up. A remote controlled anal vibrator with a prominent ring at the end so it couldn’t get lose “up there,” and a bottle of lube for if he needed relief. Jack dove for his pillow and buried his face when Bucky picked up the vibrator to show Jack how it worked, so Bucky just chuckled, put the vibrator back, and pulled out the instructions to go with it and laid it on top. Then he rubbed Jack’s back for a minute or so, trying to soothe him and coax him back to sitting up. Finally he did.

Then he pointed out a memory stick with videos he wanted jack to watch – not as porn, but to know how to take care of himself if he felt the need for relief. 

Jack blushed furiously at that, stammering he wasn’t gonna need something up his ass, looking longingly at that pillow.

So Bucky put his arm around Jack’s shoulders and hugged him (and kept him from repeating the ostrich act). “Heat treats every person differently, especially the first time. Now me, I felt like there was something missing in the worst way. I was itchy and horny and just needing to be fu– er, _filled_. But the thing is, when it happened to me, I already had a partner, someone who could help me through it. Someone who knew what to do without hurting me. That’s what I want for you, Jack – the videos will show you what you can do without hurting yourself. Y’can’t just go shoving some random thing up there, y’know. It’s all connected, and you can do yourself some real damage if you don’t have a kind of roadmap. I don’t mean to embarrass you, honest I don’t. But this is not a house where we’re gonna ignore facts, or pretend you’re not going through something profound. So cards on the table. There’s a lot of ways this could go. Worst case is you get crazy horny and need to jack off constantly with something up your ass. Some omegas go through that, some don’t. I just want you to be ready. Mostly I want you to understand that it’s _all_ okay, _you_ get to decide how this goes.”

“That why you kept us home this week?”

“One of the many reasons. And you get to decide about that, too. Take your time, take a deep breath, and _listen to your body._ Don’t push it in ways it’s not meant to go. Take care of it. Take care of you. And don’t, not for one moment, think that there’s anything wrong with you. You are perfect the way you are, Jack Firth.”

“You’re not gonna break into Lady Gaga, are you?” Jack asked, chuckling softly even as he shook his head.

“Might do. Not tonight. But I can tell you I look a-mazing in silver spandex. Makes my ass look out of this world. Just ask Steve.”

“Ew. And yuck! You’re my Dad now, you’re not supposed to be talkin’ about your ass to your son.”

“Yeah, okay. So first thing is to use the suppositories – start those tonight. They’re an old herbal remedy from when we were kids, all natural. Will help soothe any itch or ache, and the chemistry will keep the skin soft inside while drying up the slick – you shouldn’t have to worry about any leaks or scenting. After your heat is over, let’s discuss how the formula can be tweaked to make your next heat easier.” Bucky stood then, nodding for Jack to get into bed. “You’re not alone, Jack. We’re here for you. All of us. You don’t have to face anything on your own, baby. You know that, right?”

Jack nodded, and put out his hands for the box. “My Dad, my birth Dad, he wouldna known about any of this stuff. Neither of my folks were, y’know. I had an uncle who was like me, but he died in Afghanistan. My Dad, he woulda tried, though, y’know? He woulda tried to find stuff out on the internet, tried to do it quietly because he’d’a been scared the Pack would find out about me. Take me away. Make me …” he shuddered, his lips thinning out tensely. He shook his head, put the box down, drew his knees up to his chest, and wrapped his arms around his legs. I know I get whiney about not wanting this. But it’s been somethin’ to be scared of for so long. Something to dread. So, thank you. Thank you for fighting for me, and thank you for not letting my embarrassment stop you from helping me. I’m still kinda scared and really kinda embarrassed, but I hear you. I’m gonna try.”

Bucky stood there looking at him for a long moment, feeling tears stinging his eyes. This kid. This kid had been through so much already in his young life. Not unlike Bucky at that age. But he’d been living with a greater fear than Bucky had faced at the same point in his life. And his courage knocked the breath out of him. He opened his arms to Jack, who quickly unfolded himself and launched himself into Bucky’s embrace. “I promise you, they will never touch you. You will never have reason to fear them again, Jack. _On my life_ , you will be free of them.” He hugged Jack fiercely, dropping a kiss to the crown of his head, and nodded to himself, reaffirming his resolve. “Now, get some sleep,” he added gruffly, brushing his lips once more on the top of Jack’s head. “And don’t forget that suppository,” he added with a grin, releasing his son, and smiling at him once more before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

&&&

Steve was in bed when Bucky came in, naked to the waist and reading from his tablet.

“Oh,” Bucky said, closing the door and leaning with his back against it.

“Oh?” Steve asked with a sultry smile.

“You … you’re naked, aren’t you?”

“That a problem?”

“D’you mind if we … don’t? I kinda just wanna –“

Steve didn’t even look disappointed when he asked, “Cuddle? I can do naked cuddling. I love cuddling with you, you know that. It’s been a tough day, it’s taken a lot of both of us. Cuddling sounds like the right prescription,” he added, watching Bucky strip down to his skin and pull back the covers to slip in beside him. Steve reached over to turn off the bedside lamp, and slid down under the covers to pull Bucky so his head rested on Steve’s chest, and his arms circled his waist, while Steve’s hands stroked gently over the planes of Bucky’s back, his sides, his arms. He kissed Bucky’s hair, and whispered, “Every day I get to spend with you is a miracle, Buck. Everything else, everything, is cherry on top. Love you, jerk.”

“Love you, punk. Now cuddle me, big boy. And don’t stop.”

So Steve did.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we're probably only a few chapters left before we come to the end of this tale. Still some stuff to happen, but at this point, I've got a rough outline of the balance of the story. I will actually be sorry to see the end of this - as I usually am when I finish a story - but this one has been special, building a family for Bucky and Steve. I suspect I'll want to come back to this version of the boys at some point. It has been delicious writing them as committed, fiercely in love with each other, and ready to take on all comers. Every time I've come back to this story, I fall in love with them a little more.
> 
> So stick with me ... our journey yet continues. :)


	22. Dark Side of the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve and Bucky learn what Isabelle has to tell them, and Steve learns something that turns his world upside down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how I said that the Hydra thing wasn't going to be big?
> 
> Well, when I was driving to and from New Jersey to meet a friend for dinner last night (I live outside Philly), my brain pointed out how wrong I was.
> 
> It's not going to take over the story, but it does actually close out some details I'd mentioned earlier in the story, and makes the story more complete, I think.

Steve settled back in the cracked upholstered seat, his arm running along the backrest behind Bucky’s shoulders, and smiled.

He smiled because he was happy. Honestly and truly and completely happy. His best friend, his mate, his husband, his _miraculous lover_ , sat beside him chuckling and giggling and _here_. Even after all these years, Steve still marveled at Bucky being alive, being whole, being his. Their feet tangled beneath the table suface, Buck’s heel kicking slightly against Steve’s ankle. It didn’t hurt, it didn’t bother him – it reminded him how connected they were, how their bodies fit together so effortlessly. How, no matter what, they would always find each other.

And across the table sat their kids. Their kids. Jack, with his chipmunk cheeks packed with food as he tried not to laugh and spill everything on the table before him. Jazz, with her impish needling, poking Jack in the side repeatedly to force him to cry uncle and spew his breakfast. Buck, egging them on, like the big-ass kid he really was.

And he got to keep this. This was real, and permanent. Theirs to share. Theirs to hold fast and treasure.

A quick glance at his watch reminded him that they had other places to be on this fine day. Perhaps more happiness to share. Steve let himself breathe in the ease, the joy, the sheer pleasure of being together one more time, then shifted forward to remind everyone that they had an appointment, so please, Jazz, just let your brother swallow in peace. And Buck, is this the example you wanna set for the kids? Finish your own goddamn plate. And Jack – learn to chew, why don’t you?

All ways of saying, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

And in the barrage of balled up napkins, kidney pinches, and haphazardly blown raspberries, Steve heard the chorus returning of, “We love you, too.”

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

&&&

Isabelle met them in the lobby and brought the whole family up to the conference room on her floor, offering coffee or soft drinks as the four of them took their seats around the scarred old table. Running his fingers across the dented, marked up, experienced surface, Steve wondered briefly if this table had been here since his own time, marking the days and years, forming a bridge, a barrier, or a bulwark to uncounted families over the years. 

Huh. He supposed he was feeling his age to some extent, finally finding himself as a part of the family he’d forgotten he’d wanted so badly. Growing up an only child of a single mother, being orphaned so young, living through the loss of Bucky’s family, and everything they’d been through since, he’d suppressed the desire for family for far too long. And now that he finally had it, those years without seemed even longer than they’d been. With a shake of his head, he banished those thoughts. He was surrounded by his family, and the past could stay there, in the past.

Isabelle finished handing out the coffee and sodas, set her own mug down at her spot at the head of the table, and then carefully seated herself. She was dressed comfortably, in gray corduroy slacks and a loose fitting light-colored t-shirt, topped off with a soft-looking dark blue cardigan. Steve noticed she wore scuffed sneakers with little ankle socks with tiny pom-poms at the heel. She looked homey, non-threatening, maternal. She flattened her hands on the table and smiled around at each of them.

“You’re all looking well. Settling in, Jack? Jasmine?”

The kids nodded, smiling warily as they muttered assent. They didn’t know why they were here in this official space again, so soon after their lives had been upended and they’d found themselves suddenly the adopted children of superheroes. Steve realized he probably should have made more encouraging noises before they arrived. He cleared his throat then, and said, “Getting ready to start at their new school next week. Buck and I aren’t really ready for it, but we’ll deal somehow.”

That earned him a fond smile and a shy duck of the head from Jazz and Jack respectively. Isabelle chuckled, and Buck laid his hand on Steve’s knee and squeezed gently.

“A lot has changed since I saw you all together the last time. I’m happy for you both,” she nodded toward Jazz and Jack. “And I hope you two are behaving yourself,” she added with a twinkle at Steve and Bucky.

That was the right thing to say, because Jazz practically choked, laughing and Jack couldn’t resist a snort. Bucky took the opportunity to slide his hand further up Steve’s inner thigh, pinching the sensitive flesh there as he grinned at his husband. Steve laid his hand over Bucky’s and shifted it pointedly back to his knee, smiling back at Bucky before he turned back toward Isabelle and replied, “It’s a work in progress.”

“Yes, I’m sure it is,” she replied, chuckling softly. “Well, I wanted you all to come in as a family because I wanted to share some news with you, and also go over some things with you as a family.” She tapped the pile of file folders arrayed before her on the conference table. “First of all, I want to make sure that Jack understands just what you two did earlier this week. That he’s safe from the Pack because you two helped bring it down.” She looked directly at Jack then, smiling fondly. “The Pack is gone, Jack. And thanks to your two Dads here, you never have to fear it again.”

“I know,” Jack replied simply, and with an intensity that warmed Steve from the toes up. “Steve and Bucky are the best things to happen to both of us in a long time.”

Bucky’s fingers curled around Steve’s hand and squeezed, hard, and Steve felt his heart lurch in his chest. Jazz nodded, and shoved against Jack’s shoulder, saying, “Be careful. Y’don’t want it to go to their heads.” Then she stuck her tongue out at Steve and Bucky both.

Steve felt the weird urge to capture that ridiculous expression in amber, to hold it close for years to come.

Yeah, he had it bad.

And Isabelle looked at him with a look that told him she knew just how whipped he was by his kids. She was pretty smug about it, too.

“Yeah, well. Nobody’s messin’ with our family,” he replied gruffly, and he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone in that room.

“Well, there are a lot of people who are grateful for that today, Captain.” Steve opened his mouth to correct her, and she smiled. “ _Steve_. And Bucky. You proved to be the secret weapon that ended the Pack’s reign of terror. I cannot express how grateful I and all the people you rescued are to you both. And that leads me to the next issue I wanted to discuss with you.” She slid the pile of folders over toward Steve and Bucky.

“We’ve finished the preliminary processing of the adults and children – many of them omegas – held by the Pack. As you know, there were a number children. In many cases, their parents were members of the Pack, and complicit in the, ah, _treatment_ , the children endured. We’re still in the process of placing those children with family members that we’re able to prove were not part of the Pack conspiracy, and arranging for continued treatment and care. But there are a few,” she nodded toward the pile, “where we have been unable to locate suitable family members. It’s quite possible that the Children’s Court will assist those children in achieving emancipation, or in honoring their requests to be placed in the custody of more suitable adult guardians.”

“A few,” Bucky repeated, letting go of Steve’s hand to pick up the topmost file and flip through it. “Are we talking fostering?”

“For the time being, yes. Adoption may be an option later on. Look, I realize it’s a lot to ask where you’ve just taken on Jazz and Jack – that’s why I wanted to talk with you as a family –“

“How many?” Steve interrupted, spreading the files out so they could see them all. There were five folders in all.

“Three children have specifically asked for you. And one of the pregnant omegas gave birth to twins yesterday. They’ve asked for you to adopt them.”

Bucky’s hand stopped, suspended over one of the folders. He slowly raised his head and looked into Steve’s eyes, his expression unreadable to anyone who wasn’t Steve.

“Newborns,” Steve said, not tearing his eyes away from Bucky’s.

“Yes. A boy and a girl, both beautiful, healthy infants. The parent didn’t choose to be pregnant, wasn’t ready to become a parent. Is only 15 years old. They said that they want their children raised by the people who freed them. That they know you can give their children a better life than they ever could have hoped for.”

“Are we talking fostering? Or adoption?” Steve asked then, wrenching his eyes away from the pleading look in Bucky’s eyes.

“Adoption. Open. The parent may want to see the children later. They don’t know, but they’re young enough they could change their mind about that. They understand that if you choose to adopt, the adoption is final, and they’re quite at peace with that.”

“The kids’d have to double up for a bit. Until we figure out space,” Steve commented, pulling one of the files closer so he could look it over. He glanced up at Jazz and Jack. “Assuming our kids are willing.”

Jazz and Jack exchanged a look, a wordless exchange in the language of siblings. Steve knew what that was like. Even though he and Bucky were mates, husbands, and lovers, they started out as brothers under the skin, and had always shared a private language that no one else could speak or understand. Bucky was screaming at him in that language now, and Steve held his breath, waiting for the determination from the kids.

“We can share,” Jazz finally said. “How old are they?” Steve felt his grin break free, overtaking his whole body as he felt such pride and love for these kids.  
  


“Boy, four years old, a girl six, and another girl who’s 13. Just a bit younger than you, Jazz,” Bucky replied, his voice hopeful and yet ready to break into a sob at the slightest provocation.

“And two babies, a boy and a girl. I’m gonna be outnumbered,” Jack complained.

“You’ve got us,” Steve answered with a burgeoning smile.

“It’s seven, Stevie,” Bucky breathed, grabbing for his hand and threading his fingers with Steve’s, squeezing hard. “ _Seven_.”

“Bucky always wanted seven little Barnes-Rogers,” Steve explained, a giddy sensation threatening to bubble up in his chest.

“We can talk to Stark about building out the floor,” Bucky added, a growing excitement infiltrating his voice now.

“I can help with interior design,” Jazz offered.

“And I can help with space planning,” Jack inserted.

“And I can design art for each room,” Steve offered.

“And I’ll take care of security. What? It’s my job to keep my family safe,” Bucky protested, but the light in his eyes shone so brightly, Steve almost forgot where they were for a second.

“Sounds like the whole family is ready to open your home to these children,” Isabelle said, smiling.

“I think so. I – _yes_. _Yes_ , we would love to have them. We’ll all love them,” Steve gushed.

“The kid who gave birth. What’s gonna happen to them?” Bucky asked suddenly, staring down at the folders again.

“They’ve stated they are petitioning for emancipation. Under the circumstances, it’s likely it will be granted.”

“Then what? They’re 15. How’re they gonna support themselves? Where are they gonna go?”

“That’s all to be worked out, of course, but –“

“I’m in control of the Pack’s assets. I want to make sure every one of those kids, every one of the omegas that were victimized by the Pack, is taken care of. The Pack owns property, has assets, I’m planning to put all that at their disposal. You tell that kid they’ll have a home, and enough to live on until they’ve finished their education and are ready to go to work. The Pack’s assets will pay for college, tech training, whatever, too,” Bucky announced vehemently.

“I, well, wow. Captain Benson said you were now the owner of the Pack’s assets. That’s very generous of you, Bucky.”

“Generous, hell. That was the mission of the Society. We’re getting’ back to basics. Isabelle, I think you’n’me gotta lot to talk about.”

“I think maybe you should pull Vivian into this discussion, Buck. And you were talking to Reynolds, too, right? There’s a lot to be done, lots of plans to be made. But yeah, Isabelle – we’re gonna need to know how many people and what they need in order to start making the right kind of plans,” Steve added.

“We?” she asked, an underlying current of amusement in her voice.

Steve looked over at Jazz and Jack, then at Bucky. Bucky lifted their joined hands to his lips and placed a kiss on Steve’s knuckles. Steve stared at his husband, joy warming every part of him as he nodded, and repeated, “We.”

&&&

The discussion continued, and Isabelle asked the kids if they’d give the adults the room so she could discuss some sensitive items directly with the parents. They’d been wary to leave, but both Steve and Bucky assured them it would be okay. Steve paused to call Happy to make sure he’d meet the kids at ground level, and he didn’t relax until Happy texted him back that they were happily ensconced in the limo, watching some figure skating anime cartoon on the big screen TV Tony had added for them the other day.

With the kids safely tucked away, Steve was finally able to focus on Isabelle, as Bucky’s fingers tightened around his.

She explained that the three children who’d asked to be placed with Captain America and Sergeant Barnes were frightened of their own birth parents. The 13 year old was suspected to present as omega, and had already been promised in marriage to a much older alpha in the Pack. She knew that her parents had been very willing to make the deal, since having an omega child bond to an alpha was one of the ways people worked their way up the social ladder of the Pack. They’d traded their child for social prominence.

The four year old had required surgery the year before due to a bowel obstruction, and during the pre-op diagnostics, vestigial secondary sex organs had been discovered. So it was suspected that he’d present as omega, and again, his parents had allowed various alphas – obviously much older – to spend time with the boy. Even at four, the boy had recognized inappropriate touch, and begged his parents to stop the men from coming to see him. The parents had chosen to ignore the boy’s pleas, and he had grown as frightened of his parents as he had the men who’d probed and prodded him. Like the 13 year old girl’s parents, the boy’s parents had been seeking social advancement at his expense. CPS had confirmed that the touch had not escalated to penetration of any kind, but that didn’t lessen the boy’s anxiety or fears. Or their concerns over the parents endangerment of the child.

“He admires you, Steve. But I think it’s Bucky that’s really attractive to him. The fact that there is a strong omega in the family, someone who’ll stand up to an alpha, I think he recognizes that as a safe place for him.”

“Yeah, we might want to introduce him to you slowly, babe. And Jack could really help with this, too.”

Steve tightened his hold on Bucky’s hand, nodding sadly. “Yeah. Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. I can be around, but we’ll let him initiate any contact – just when he’s ready. Tell me these people are going to be punished, Isabelle. Tell me they are going to suffer for what they did to their little boy.”

“Oh, trust me, we are going to pursue every penalty under law that we can. Between CPS and SVU, we’ve got the team and now the funding to do this right. And if you’re serious about providing resources for the people who’ve been victimized, well, that gives us even more clout. These people are going to need help for a very long time – some may never recover completely. But together we can try to give them the support they need to build new lives, outside the shadow of the Pack.”

“Good. I want that. _Fuck, I want that_ ,” Steve swore fervently, and started when Bucky pressed a kiss on his cheek.

“God, I love it when you get all righteous, babe. Now what about the six year old? Is she okay?”

“She’s probably in the best shape of the three. But like the others, her parents had already started to shop her around for an alpha husband. These people were living like it was medieval Europe, right in the middle of Manhattan!” she suddenly exploded.

“That was the point of those old alpha-worship rags Ralphie used to eat up. Fuckin’ porn like snuff flicks! Omegas existed only to pleasure the alphas and deliver pups to their masters. Pups! Like they’re not even human! The alpha cults were nothing more than a dressed up form of slavery, and they didn’t even try to hide the sexual domination inherent in their design. I know the founding fathers dropped the ball on rights for women and people of color, but they did put a stop to that bullshit. At least we thought they did. No one ever factored just what a sick fuck Ralphie Patterson was.”

“That seems to be a recurrent theme. I suppose that’s how he got away with it for so long – no one could conceive of someone doing what he’s done. And yet all these people followed along. For generations.”

“I imagine some of them were themselves abused, too,” Steve said softly. “But that’s no excuse for perpetuating it. We need to be sure it’s done. We can’t let even one person continue what he started. It’s like Hydra – it’s all gotta go.”

Isabelle hesitated for a moment, then reached forward with her hand and placed it over Steve’s. It always surprised him when unenhanced people touched him – their skin tended to be cooler than his, metabolisms running at normal levels. He looked up at her and saw the sympathy there, the empathy. “It will, Steve. Because of the pair of you. You’ve helped more in a week than any of us have been able to accomplish in twenty years and more. I’ve seen more than my fair share of what the Pack has done over the past 17 years. In fact, I had a friend who was victimized by them – it’s one of the reasons I got into the field in the first place. We usually count our wins one child at a time, and sometimes those wins are hard to get. But today you have reason to be proud that you’ve made an enormous difference in a lot of people’s lives. And you’ve given me and the team the ability to fight on, and _win_.”

Steve felt a small smile twitch at the corner of his mouth. That sounded good, but he recognized there was still so much more to do. He felt Bucky’s hand squeeze his again as he asked, “The kids. How soon do we get them?”

“The three older ones will need to go through some additional processing. But if you’re up for it, I could bring them to the tower this evening … ?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that would be great. We’ll sort out rooms and stuff, and we’ll be ready for them. And the babies? Can we visit the parent?”

“The babies will have to be released from the hospital, and there’s the legal details to work out. I would guess sometime next week for them. As for visiting, well, I don’t know that anyone thought you might want to do that. I’ll have to ask and get back to you. Don’t … don’t be surprised if the answer is no. This kid has been through a lot. There’s a lot of healing in their future, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Bucky said. And Steve knew that he did, more than most. He’d been through so much for so much of his long life, and his recovery hadn’t been instantaneous, and it hadn’t been easy. But he was here, and he was whole, and they were together. Steve kept thinking he couldn’t be more proud, and then Bucky would do something more that just deepened Steve’s love for him. “Anything that kid needs, they get, right? We’ll take care of it.”

Yeah. Like that.

&&&

They were getting up to say their goodbyes when Steve’s phone rang. He glanced down to see who the caller was and immediately excused himself, leaving the room with Bucky and Isabelle still talking about the kids being placed with distant family, and how CPS would monitor their recoveries.

A few minutes later, Steve was back, and he walked up to Bucky and kissed him on the cheek. “Who was that, doll?” Bucky asked as he allowed himself to be kissed.

“Benson. She wants me to stop by the precinct. You okay to go back with the kids and get started on getting the apartment ready without me?”

“No,” Bucky replied. “Because we promised Jack lunch. How about you drop us off at Katz’s, do your thing with Benson, and then have Happy bring you back. Jack should have eaten his way through half of the menu by then, and you can pick up the slack, huh? Then we all go back to the tower to get ready – you are not dodging the great reorganization, husband-mine.”

Steve chuckled, reminded once more that love wasn’t the only thing that kept them together. Snarky senses of humor and an unlimited supply of calling each other on their bullshit went a long way to keeping their relationship real.

“Yeah, sure, it’s a plan. Order me a pastrami, you know the way I like it. I won’t be long.”

“Better not be. Or I’m eating your pickle,” Bucky grumbled, and Isabelle had the good sense to use that as her signal to retreat.

&&&

Olivia handed Steve a worn, leather-bound diary, its yellowed pages flagged with a flurry of multi-colored post-its. 

“What’s this?” Steve asked, taking the book and staring down at it.

“Raphael Diminucci’s diary for 1950. Those post-it notes flag passages you should read. You were right, Steve. Diminucci knew Zola. He’s the man who turned Diminucci from an omega to an alpha. Right here, in New York.”

Steve looked up then, feeling his stomach lurch. Breakfast was threatening to come back, along with everything else he’d eaten that day.

“So there isn’t a way to transition from omega to alpha, or beta?” he asked, feeling like he’d somehow let Jack down.

“Oh, no, there are definitely pathways to secondary gender reassignment, just like there are ways to transition from male to female, female to male. They take time, though. But in 1950, there hadn’t been any successful physical transitions from omega to another secondary gender yet. People might live outwardly as an alpha, or more likely a beta, but there was no way to actually change the way their body worked at that time. But Zola found a way to do it, and to accelerate the change. Diminucci’s transition took a fraction of the time it would take to do it safely today.”

“A variation of his version of the super soldier serum, maybe,” Steve answered, still frowning at the book.

“Based on Diminucci’s notes, that’s exactly what it sounds like. But Steve, I want you to look at this first, here, before you share any of it with your husband,” she told him with a surprising level of intensity.

“Why? I mean, we don’t keep secrets from each other –“

“I’m not suggesting you do. I just think … I think you need to be ready to manage damage control.”

“Olivia …?”

“Diminucci wasn’t just the recipient of Zola’s serum. He was an active participant in the Winter Soldier program.” She held out a second volume, with fewer flags, but Steve felt that somehow the book was more ominous, more malevolent. He lifted his eyes to look into hers, saw the concern, the mirrored pain, the disgust.

“Zola didn’t change him to be generous. He had a plan. He had an enhanced omega in custody – _on ice_ – when he met Diminucci.”

Steve felt the ice forming inside of him, a cold ball of horror in his chest reaching out poisonous tendrils that froze his extremities, slowed his brain, and stopped his heart. He didn’t want to hear what she was about to tell him. He didn’t think he could take one more horror. 

He was wrong.

“When Zola was able to return to Europe and defrost his subject, he needed an alpha to impregnate him to start breeding a super race. It was unsuccessful – apparently Diminucci was already sterile, or the treatments rendered him that way. But there were several attempts to breed before that was confirmed.”

“He …” Steve couldn’t get the words out around the bile that threatened to surge up his throat.

“Zola had already done enough to Bucky that he was no longer himself. There was no consent involved. According to the notes, no awareness. But Diminucci knew exactly who he was. He was a willing collaborator with Hydra. And a willing rapist.”

 _He touched my mate_ , Steve’s alpha hindbrain screamed.

 _He **violated** Bucky_ , Steve’s heart bellowed. _He **hurt** Bucky._

“What do I …?” Steve choked out loud.

“It’s your decision, of course. But I suspect Bucky would want to know. And if that’s the case, then I do think it’s better if you read it first so you can support him when he does read it. We’re going to continue to check through the diaries for more of those names you mentioned. We don’t know yet if the Pack had ties to Hydra, or if it was just Diminucci. But he definitely owes his transformation to Hydra, and possibly his allegiance as well.”

Steve held the two books gingerly, as though they’d somehow transfer their insidious poison to him by touch alone. He didn’t want to read how Ralphie had abused Bucky. He didn’t want to know that Ralphie had done unspeakable things to the man he loved, his best friend, and the best person in the world. He wanted to roll back the clock and forget that any of this had ever happened.

But he couldn’t. Because his command to the Pack was as binding on him as it was on them.

_Let justice be served._

“And Steve,” Olivia said, pulling him back from the brink. “Don’t think about doing anything to Diminucci. We’ve got enough – more than enough – to put him away so he’ll never see daylight again. He will be punished.”

“Not enough. He can’t live long enough to be punished enough,” Steve replied, his voice deep and gravelly with fervor. “If he lived forever, he couldn’t suffer enough for what he’s done.”

“Nevertheless, what he will suffer in the future will be according to the law, Steve. Right? You’re with me, right, Steve?”

He tore his eyes away from where they bored into the old leather, to look into her expectant eyes, and nod silently.

She sighed, and laid her hand gently on his forearm. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry this … _creature_ … exists. I’m sorry for all the horror he’s visited on so many people. And I’m sorry it continues to touch your family. But we’ve put a stop to him, Steve. Because of you. And because of you both, we’ll be able to make it better for his victims. Keep that in mind. You need to focus on the good you can do, the good you are doing. Right?”

“Right.”

Steve knew he couldn’t trust himself to say any more. If he did, he must might start screaming, and he might never stop.

&&&

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geeze, it's nearly 5 a.m. where I am. I never see the sun come up unless I wait for it ... maybe I should do that. But no, my eyes are made of sandpaper at this point, but I was so close to finishing this chapter, I just couldn't let it go.
> 
> So, this chapter had more than one big reveal. That'll teach me to drive to Jersey on a Friday night!
> 
> Whadya think ... ?

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://debwalsh.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Comments and kudos give me life!


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